


The Thing That Keeps Him Going

by lilgirlost (lil_grl_lost)



Series: Fair Winds and Following Seas [3]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Military, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Navy JAG Corps, Navy!Mike, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_grl_lost/pseuds/lilgirlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey Specter has never put much stock into the old saying, "absence makes the heart grow fonder;" but as another year Mike's overseas posting stretches out before him, Harvey finds himself starting to rethink his original feelings on the subject. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, especially where his own emotions are concerned.</p><p>(or The Second Year of Mike and Harvey's Relationship)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. July/August 2008

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! With five months of silence, I'm finally posting the third part of this wonderful series. While I can't promise that my updates will be on time, I'm going to try to aim for a new chapter every other Sunday. So here's the first little nugget with the next part arriving in a couple of weeks.
> 
> This isn't edited, so if anyone wants to offer their beta services, I'd be more than happy to accept them. So just drop me a comment and I'll get back to you. That being said, all mistakes are mine, feel free to point them out in abundance if you happen to see any. :)
> 
> Enjoy!!

** Mike +39 3290 194670 **

Proud?

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

That I’m no longer dating a second class lieutenant. Immensely.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

You’re such an ass. What did Louis do this time?

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Not actually an insult, when I know for a fact you like my ass.

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

For once, no. Just a client too ego driven to see reason.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

I would have thought the conceited client would be your favorite

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

There you’d wrong. I enjoy the stupid client because they know I’m

the best and therefore have their best interests at heart.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Aw Tin Man…

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Lol

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Is there video? Please tell me theres video.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

There is. I sent it to Grammy so you can watch it together this

weekend

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

How are your backgammon lessons going?

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

I’ll be ready to kick your ass when I see you next.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Promises promises :-p

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

I’m secretly dating a 14 year old.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

We could get married in New Hampshire. Its legal.

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Oh look, I have a meeting

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

I was kidding, Harvey!

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Harvey!?

~*~*~*~

“Only you would pick me up from the airport in a Cobra Roadster,” Mike remarked dryly, taking in the sight of a 1966 metallic blue—with iconic white racing stripe—Cobra 427SC; the car was a thing of beauty if Mike had ever seen one.

“Hey! Don’t knock the ride, she has feelings,” Harvey groused from behind the wheel before tossing Mike the trunk keys, which the sailor easily caught.

Turning in his seat, Harvey watched as Mike rounded the car and opened the trunk. “Named her already?” Mike asked while stowing his bag inside. “I thought Gotham Car Club frowned on that, considering you don’t own it,” he added before slamming the trunk shut with a little more force than necessary.

“Cute,” Harvey quipped. “Now get your ass in the car, Cinderella, before you turn back into a pumpkin.”

“I think you mean the car, Harvey,” Mike stated as he slid into the car, settling against the black leather bucket seat. The leather fit like a glove almost as though it had been made with his ass in mind, which was definitely a welcome after the hellish ten hour flight. Economy Comfort might give the offer of more legroom and inclined seats (and the added bonus of complementary alcohol); but it did nothing to distract or hide the screaming toddler four rows back. In hindsight, Mike really should’ve taken Harvey on his offer of paying the difference between economy and business; he might’ve been able to sleep.

“Shut up.”

“Yes, dear.” Mike grinned and then leaned over, knocking his shoulder with Harvey’s and said, “Hi.”

“Hello,” Harvey returned before pulling Mike into a quick kiss. “Hungry?”

“Yes, please.”

After he pulled into traffic, Harvey glanced at Mike and said, “Grammy is going to be pissed when she sees you.”

“Do I look that skinny?” Mike asked as he reached down to push at his stomach like it would help determine how much weight he had lost since the spring.

“Skinner than the last time she saw you,” Harvey replied before reaching over and grabbing Mike’s wrist, wrapping his hand around it as though measuring Mike’s wrist size would tell him how much weight Mike had lost.

“Maybe if I look starved enough she’ll make me cookies?”

Harvey rolled his eyes, not bothering to look at Mike while he focused on switching lanes. “She’ll make you cookies, regardless.”

Mike nodded and then the car fell silent, save for the radio playing jazz on low. “So how is work?” Mike casually asked, breaking the silence while earning a scathing look from Harvey. “Or are we not talking about it?”

“Work is work. But let me enjoy the weekend before I have to go back on Monday and put my foot up Louis’s ass.”

“Make certain you wash it after, otherwise you’re sleeping on the couch,” Mike joked.

“Really?” Harvey raised an eyebrow and said, “I seem to recall being the owner of the bed, so you’d be the one on the couch.”

“Nope. Read the contract, Harvey. You agreed to support me in the armed forces. Where is the support if I’m forced to sleep on the couch?” Mike stated, giving Harvey his best puppy-dog eyes. “I’m sorry that Louis is the idiot who ruined our vacation plans.”

“Not only ruined our trip, but ruined months of delicate willing and dealing. And all for what, so he could look good in front of Jessica. When he really showed himself to be the idiot I knew he was.” With a frown, Mike reached and kneaded the muscles in Harvey’s neck, feeling the tension. “I’m sorry, Mike,” Harvey groaned when the sailor hit a particular knot.

“It’s not your fault, Harvey. These things happen. We’re going to try and make the most of the next week.”

Mike and Harvey had planned on a week in Florida, and had decided to take Edith with them. A few of her friends from the old neighborhood had retired to Florida while Mike was a teenager, so he thought she would enjoy the change to reconnect with her oldest friend Susan, who happened to live in Orlando area.  

Unfortunately, the plan was now shot to hell, thanks to Louis Litt’s big mouth and even bigger teeth.

“If you say so,” Harvey retorted, sounding very much like the disgruntled eight year-old he was portraying from his facial expression.

“I do,” Mike repeated, kneading the tight muscles at the base of Harvey’s neck. “While you’re at work, I’ll spend time with Grammy and sightsee.”

“What is there to _sightsee_? You’re from Brooklyn.”

Mike made a face and said, “Do you know that the average local has never visited the most iconic sights that make New York famous?”

“Not surprising,” Harvey muttered, causing the frown on Mike’s face to deepen. “Why would you voluntarily want to be in the same locations as a bunch of fanny-pack wearing vacationers? It’s bad enough having to deal with them on the subway and street.”

“Like you’ve ever ridden the subway.”

“Not the point,” Harvey shot back, eyebrow raised ever-so slightly in challenge.

Rolling his eyes, Mike gave Harvey one last glance before closing his eyes, allowing the rumble of the Cobra’s engine and light jazz from the radio’s speakers lull him to sleep.

~*~*~*~

“Michael, I don’t really understand why we are doing this?” Edith asked by way of greeting as she rose from her chair to meet Mike.

For the last few minutes, she had been sitting in the sun room of her retirement home racking her brain for a cause or reason as to why her grandson could possibly want to spend the week sightseeing. After all the numerous field trips during his childhood, she assumed he would’ve seen everything one could possibly see in New York’s five boroughs.

“I’ve missed New York and I’ve missed you, so let’s kill two birds with one stone,” Mike replied with a grin and a wink. “Harvey’s loaned us Ray for the day with the stipulation we have to return him by seven.”

“Do we plan to be out that long?”

Mike shrugged. “Probably not. I was thinking we’d ordered take-out and eat at Harvey’s.”

“Now Michael, I won’t be the third wheel,” Edith chastised in the way that only grandmother’s seemed to be able to. While Edith loved Michael and had grown very fond of Harvey over the last few months, she had no desire to be an interloper within their relationship, especially considering the long distance nature of it.

“You won’t be a third wheel, Grammy,” Mike assured her. “Besides I can’t guarantee Harvey will be home by seven.”

“He works too hard,” Edith said off-handedly, though she would never say that to Harvey’s face, no matter how ragged he appeared during their Sunday backgammon games. Though she couldn’t help but feel a little worried for the man’s health, because he was good man, who happened to hold her grandson’s heart in his hands. So if anything were to happen, she didn’t like to imagine what it would do to Mike.

Ignoring the statement, Mike reached out and took his Edith’s elbow, guiding her out of the sun room and then through the retirement home’s front lobby and finally out the front door where Ray was waiting with his black town car.

“Good morning, Mrs. Ross,” Ray said, once they were to the car. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, Ray,” she replied while he opened the door. “How’s the family?”

“Good, can’t really complain,” Ray answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Edith smiled, patting the hand resting on the car’s open door and said, “We both know that’s not true. You’re just too much of professional to complain.”

“You’ve got me there, ma’am,” Ray laughed as Mike helped her into the car. Once Edith was the car, Ray looked at Mike and asked, “Where to first?”

~*~*~*~

“I know you’re cheating.”

“I’m doing no such thing, Michael,” Edith rebuked. “What kind of grandson accuses his beloved grandmother of cheating?”

“A smart one,” Michael grinned. “I’m on to you, old woman.”

“Watch who you called old.”

Closing the door softly so not to alert them to his presence, Harvey leaned back against his front door and allowed the sounds of his family drift over him, relieving some of the tension that had settled in his shoulders.

With a roll of his shoulders, Harvey dropped his briefcase by the door and wandered further into the apartment. After rounding the corner, Harvey stopped in the door way of his living room and watched as Edith and Mike played rummy.

“Hey.”

Mike was the first to turn at the sound of his voice, a smile stretching across his lips before it quickly morphed into a frown at seeing the exhaustion evident across Harvey’s face. “That bad, huh,” Mike remarked, eyes following Harvey as he loosened his tie and fell onto the softest available surface.

Tutting softly as she rose from her seat, Edith set off for the kitchen and as she walked she swiftly shed her card-shark persona, replacing it with one of a concerned grandmother. While she enjoyed Harvey’s company on the weekends, she knew that the lawyer could be better spending his time sleeping. However, it wasn’t her place to scold him; she’d leave that job to Mike.

While his grandmother was in the kitchen reheating Harvey’s dinner, Mike shuffled over to his partner and set about trying to get Harvey to his feet. Ignoring the series of scowls, glares, and growls, Mike eventually got Harvey to his feet and moved to the couch by the time Edith returned carrying a plate of her home cooking—something Harvey rarely got unless he was willing to make it himself.

“It’s nothing fancy like you’re used to,” Edith began before handing Harvey the plate, “but I thought Michael could use some fattening up.”

If Harvey wasn’t so tired, he probably would have given a smart quip about being right; but instead he settled for a smug smile. Either way, Harvey got his point across because as soon as he smiled Mike crossed his arms and glared.

Having gotten used to Mike and Harvey’s bewildering, yet loving relationship, Edith merely shook her head and began cleaning up the card game. It was getting late and she had to get back to assisted living before nine. “Grammy,” Mike sighed as he watched her pottered around the living room, picking up items before setting them down again. He could see that she was going her version of blending into the background, so he and Harvey could have the appearance of privacy.

Smiling softly at his grandmother, Mike walked to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, causing her to focus her attention on him. “Let’s get you home,” he suggested before leaning down to kiss her cheek.

Edith returned his smile and patted his cheek fondly. “No, no. You stay here with Harvey. I can take a taxi back.”

“No,” Harvey drawled as he set his fork down and finally looked at grandmother and grandson. “Mike call Ray and have him turn around. He can take Edith back to Brooklyn.”

“Okay,” Mike agreed, already picking up the landline to make the call. Stepping away from them, Mike turned to make the call, yet from the corner of his peripheral vision he could see that his grandmother had disappeared into kitchen again and this time returning with a plate of her homemade double chocolate chip cookies. “Hey Ray, it’s Mike. I need you to turn around.”

“I made cookies, Harvey,” Edith said, holding the plate out to the lawyer, who shook his head.

Although after receiving Edith’s grandmotherly look of reproach, he was quick to change his mind and reached for one, taking the smallest one from the plate, even though it wasn’t all that small. It would seem that Edith and Mike didn’t know the meaning of the word moderation when it came to size of their cookies. Each looked to be about the size of Harvey’s fist, which didn’t bode well for his exercise and diet regime.

“Thank you, Edith.” Harvey took a big bite of the sugary treat and smiled.

Reaching out, Edith patted his cheek and said, “You’re a good man, Harvey Specter. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Ray will be here in a couple of minutes,” Mike announced, interrupting Harvey before he could tell Edith how wrong she was about him. “So let’s get your things together.”

While Mike went to grab her jacket from the hall closet, Edith walked over to her large handbag and riffled around for a minute before pulling out her prize, a battered but clearly cared for men’s wristwatch. “This belong to Mike’s grandfather, who was good man despite his faults,” Edith explained while handing Harvey the watch. “And I want you to have it.”

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?” She admonished.

Knowing when he had been beat, Harvey shook his head and smiled apologetically at her for even thinking for a moment he could question her motives. “Thank you, Edith.”

A few minutes later when Mike returned with Edith’s jacket, Harvey delivered his first jibe of the night, “I thought you sailors had built in compasses.”

“Funny.” Rolling his eyes, Mike held out Edith’s jacket and helped her into it while he continued to watch Harvey over his grandmother’s shoulder. Once Edith’s jacket was on, Mike walked to Edith’s handbag and picked it up, resting it on his elbow. “Ready to go, Grammy?”

“Yes, Michael,” she replied, taking his free elbow and allowing him to lead her downstairs to Ray’s awaiting car. As she was leaving, Edith directed her gaze at Harvey one last time and said, “Remember what I said, Harvey.”

“I will,” Harvey admitted, giving a small wave as she disappeared around the corner; a minute later, he heard the front door open then close. Once he was alone, Harvey looked at the plate of food and pushed it away; yet he took the cookie and devoured it, throwing his diet out the window for one night.

Leaning back against the plush cushions, Harvey closed his eyes for what seemed to be like the first time since leaving his bed that morning. Instead of spending the day trailing Mike through Universal Studios like they had originally planned, Harvey had spent the day on the phone trying to talk his client back into the carefully planned merger that had taken him weeks to work out in the first place.

“Bed?” Mike asked softly from the doorway and unable to stop the fond smile from spreading across his face for managing to startle Harvey. Mike could count on one hand that number of people that had the ability to startle his partner, and he liked to think that being on that hand was a good thing. He hoped it meant that Harvey trusted him enough to let his guard down.

With a wary nod, Harvey hoisted his tired body from the couch and shuffled over to where Mike stood, knowing without a doubt that Mike would catch him if he faltered. When Harvey was close enough, Mike wrapped Harvey into a brief hug and then released him, keeping one hand on Harvey’s waist for support as he led his partner to bed.

Once in the bedroom, Mike left Harvey standing in the middle of the room while he grabbed Harvey’s sleep pants and t-shirt from under his pillow. Throwing them over his shoulder, Mike then returned to Harvey and began helping him out of his work clothes. Throughout the entire process, Harvey stood quiet and pliant, letting Mike manipulate him out of his pinstripe vest and once crisp, white dress shirt.

After dropping both on the floor, Mike reached out and tugged the worn, gray t-shirt over Harvey’s head, smoothing the material down with his fingers. As his hands moved down Harvey’s chest, he stopped long enough to trace the faded letters spelling _Harvard_ before continuing onto his final destination, Harvey’s trousers. Popping the button on the trousers, Mike waited for Harvey kicked his shoes off before pushing the luxurious cloth to the floor, which Harvey also kicked away.

Normally, he’d have been persnickety about the treatment of his clothes and would have been the first to bitch about Mike’s earlier treatment of them; but he was just too tired to care. All he wanted was sleep and Mike, and luck would have that he and Mike were on the same page.

As Mike bent down to help him step into the sleep pants, Harvey took the opportunity to run his fingers through the younger man’s hair, enjoying the feel of the short strands tinkling his palms. It was the little moments like this that made Harvey realize how much he missed Mike while he was stationed overseas. Shifting his hands away from Mike’s hair, Harvey rested them on the sailor’s shoulders as Mike rose to his feet, pulling the pants up as he went until he was nose to mouth with Harvey, who in his sleepy-state leaned forward enough to kiss Mike’s nose.

Mike grinned and scrunched his nose before shoving Harvey away and watching as he landed on the bed, sprawling spread-eagle across it. From Mike’s perspective, it was a good look for Harvey. Gone were the lawyer’s hard edges and sarcastic quips, replaced by secret urges to cuddle and pet, which Mike enjoyed receiving probably as much as Harvey liked to give.

From his spot, Harvey gazed up at Mike, his eyes tracking the sailor’s movements around the room as Mike readied for bed. And it wasn’t until Mike was down to his boxers that Harvey finally moved again, rolling onto his side while his hand stretched out to snag the waistband of Mike’s boxers and giving it a quick snap. Mike scowled playfully then grinned, causing Harvey to quirk a lone eyebrow. Rolling his eyes at Harvey’s expression, Mike tussled with the blankets until Harvey was under them and he was able to finally crawl into bed.

Mike had barely stretched out before Harvey became handsy, tugging on the sailor until Mike was forced to roll forward and wrap his arms around Harvey just so his hands and arms had somewhere to go. The feeling of being cocooned within Harvey’s scent and warmth made Mike long for the days when his service to the Navy was over and they’d no longer have to snatch time here and there.

“Sex later,” Harvey announced sleepily, voice muffled by the short strands of Mike’s hair. As they laid there in the dark and Mike’s laughter reverberate through his mentally exhausted body, Harvey silently vowed that he’d give Mike something to laugh about… preferably after he had about 10 hours of sleep and a couple of cups of coffee.


	2. October/November 2008

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has an odd habit of speeding by and before you know it, Christmas and the end of a year is almost upon you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two is here and no time. Hooray!! Can't make any promises for chapter three, though. Same disclaimers apply as before... This is unbetaed except for by my loving hand, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as they did the first one.

“Harvey Specter’s office, how may I help you?”

“Hello, this is Nurse Nikkola and I’m calling in regards to Edith Ross—“ the voice over the line began before being cut off.

“Hold please while I transfer you.”

Pressing the little black button on her intercom system, Donna waited a beat and then said, “Harvey, there's a Nurse Nikkola on line 2; she's calling about Edith.”

“Thanks, Donna.”

Normally, Donna would have left the intercom on; but given who Harvey was speaking too, she thought it best to give him his privacy. The phone and email exchanges between her and Mike didn’t give her the right to know the all of their personal business, which included Mike’s grandmother, Edith.

From her desk, Donna watched through the glass walls as Harvey leaned forward, the phone cradled in his neck as he ran his fingers through his gelled hair, a sign of distress that she rarely witnessed when it came to Harvey because he wasn’t the type to let anyone see him weak. After hanging up the phone, Harvey crossed the office and stuck his head out the door, barking, “Donna, I need you to call Ray and then I need you to reschedule my afternoon meeting.”

“Is everything okay?” Donna asked, her fingers already on the phone and dialing. Based on the few interactions she’d had with the older woman, Donna found she quite liked her, if nothing more than because Edith liked to call Harvey out on his shit.

“She wouldn’t discuss it over the phone,” Harvey told her through the now open door as he grabbed his briefcase and started across his office.

“I’ll handle everything, Harvey, just go,” Donna said with the phone still to her ear. Harvey didn’t know if she was on the phone to Ray or cancelling the meeting; neither way he didn’t care because Donna would see to that his afternoon was cleared and Ray would be waiting by the time he got downstairs.

“Harvey, a word,” Jessica stated as she approached Donna’s desk, where Harvey had stopped to pat down his pockets, making sure that he had his keys and his phone, in case he needed to call Mike.

Without sparing her a glance, Harvey glanced at his watch and said, “Sorry Jessica, but I don’t have the time.”

“Harvey.”

The tone in Jessica’s voice made Harvey look up, finally meeting the named partner’s eye. “Jessica, I’m in a hurry. So make it quick.”

“Meeting with a client?” Jessica asked, not so much out of curiosity; but because this was her firm and she wanted to know why her newest junior partner was bailing on a meeting with one of his top clients.

“Does it matter?”

Putting her hands on her hips, she leveled Harvey with a look that spoke volumes and said, “It does.”

“Then yes. I have a meeting with a client,” Harvey lied while meeting her gaze with a look of his own. A look that said not to call him out on his bullshit.

“It can wait then,” Jessica told him, giving him a skeptical look. Turning on her heel, she threw a parting remark over her shoulder. “Come see me when you get back.”

Once Jessica was gone, Donna leaned back in her chair and quirked an eyebrow, stating, “You’re not coming back.”

“You know me so well,” Harvey smirked as he left, listening to the sounds of Donna’s laughter.

“Bye, Harvey,”

~*~*~*~

After spending forty-five minutes in New York traffic to get across the bridge, Harvey almost breathed a sigh of relief as the emergency room front desk came into sight. Even though the doctor hadn’t sounded all that concerned, Harvey couldn’t stomach the thought of having to call Mike if something terrible had happened to Grammy. Destroying companies and people because of business was one thing; being the one, who have to break his partner’s heart was entirely different matter in its self.   

“I’m looking for Edith Ross. I was told she had been brought in,” he stated firmly, using the same tone he used when addressing everyone that he thought weren't worth his time or energy... which seemed to be the general population on the whole.

“Mr. Specter.”

Harvey turned and glanced at the speaker, casting an eye over the leggy brunette in front of him. Two years ago, he would have probably given her a second or even a third glance; but since meeting Mike, Harvey had barely even glanced at anyone, who wasn’t that lanky sailor lawyer he had fallen in love more than a year ago.

Though it wasn’t her legs or even her slim physique that caused him to glance again; it was the scar above her right eye. A scar that he couldn’t help but notice every time he visited Edith at her care facility. As he continued to focus on her right eye, the name finally popped into his head… Nurse Nikkola. 

“What happened? Is Edith alright?”

“It’s nothing too serious, Mr. Specter. Edith became a little disoriented after lunch and fell; she appeared unharmed, but we felt that we needed to be better safe than sorry,” Nikkola reassured with a smile. Dealing with frazzled family members was an everyday occurrence in her line of work; yet it was rare to meet a man like Harvey Specter. He played it cool and close to the vest, even as his eyes betrayed his anxiety.  

“Where is she?”

Nurse Nikkola ushered him forward and said, “They’ve taken her up to x-ray, so if you’ll follow me, I can take you too her.”

“Thanks.”

As she lead the way to radiology on the third floor, Nikkola couldn’t stop herself from gushing on how much she admired Harvey’s devotion to his partner and his grandmother. “I think it’s a wonderful thing you do for your partner. I mean if I was four thousand miles from my only living relative, I’d definitely want someone I loved and trusted there in case something terrible happened to them.”

“Yeah…” Harvey murmured, voice trailing off into silence. While he appreciated what Nikkola was trying to do, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk.

“Here, we are,” Nikkola announced brightly, once they had reached radiology and just as they were rolling Edith out in a wheelchair.

“Harvey,” Edith greeted, reaching out her hand and laying it on Harvey’s arm. “I don’t understand why they are fussing so much over a little fall,” she groused because she hated to be fussed over. After all, she wasn’t a child, but a grown woman, who not only raised her son but her grandson as well.

Patting the hand on his arm, Harvey leaned down, so he could look Edith in the face as he said, “Because Mike isn’t here to worry about you,” before adding with grin, “so we have to do it for him.”

“Mr…?”

“Harvey Specter, I’m Edith’s emergency contact,” Harvey replied shortly, while holding his hand out to the middle aged doctor standing to the left of Edith’s chair.

“Ah, nice to meet you, Mr. Specter. I’m Doctor Thayer,” the doctor supplied with a firm shake of the hand. Dropping Harvey’s hand, Thayer brought up Edith’s chart and glanced at it, checking his notes before explaining, “For the most part, Mrs. Ross didn’t sustain any major damage to her wrist when she fell, however, she did sprain it trying to catch herself. I’m going to give her a brace and you a list of instructions.”

“So she’s free to leave?” Harvey asked.

Thayer nodded and looked Harvey square in the eye, understanding that this man meant business for no other reason than the fact he cared about Edith Ross. In his line of work, he met many types of family members: the ones, who cared; the ones, who only cared when it suited their needs; and lastly the ones, who didn’t give a damn either way. “Yes, but if the swelling doesn’t appear to be diminish, be sure to follow up with her primary.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Yes, thank you, Doctor,” Harvey agreed as he took ahold of Edith’s wheelchair, intending to push her to the discharge desk. Even though it had turned into a nothing more than a small sprain, Harvey didn’t like the idea of facing Edith’s mortality. He had already lost his dad; he couldn’t imagine losing another person that he loved.

Patting Edith on the shoulder, Thayer smiled and said, “Take care of yourself, Mrs. Ross.”

“She will,” Harvey replied for her, causing the older woman to scowl at him before she turned and gave the doctor her best grandmotherly smile.  

With a shake of his head, Dr. Thayer turned and left, leaving his patient in the capable hands of the facility care Nurse Nikkola, who would ensure that the proper care instructions were followed and that Mrs. Ross was discharged and sent home, whether that was to her care facility or into the hands of her family for the night.

~*~*~*~

“I won’t be home for Christmas,” Mike stated without preamble, and with a frown on his face, as soon as their video chat connected and allowed him see Harvey’s face for the first time in weeks. While phone calls, emails, and pics helped with the loneliness of missing Harvey, it didn’t hold a candle to being able to see and hear Harvey, even if it was through just a simple video connection.

“Are you going to start singing?” Harvey joked, in attempt to erase the serious expression from Mike’s face. It had taken them days to schedule this video chat and Harvey had no desire to spend it with a Mike, who wasn’t a happy bunny.

Mike quirked his lips, though the frown stayed firmly in place. “Would it make you love me more if I did?”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly…” Harvey snorted.

Bringing his hand up, Mike pressed it flat against his chest and gasped. “Harvey! I’m hurt.”

“Fine,” Harvey grumbled, though his grin told Mike that he wasn’t all that disgruntle. “I’ll let you sing, but you’ll have to give me a good reason why you’re going to break Grammy’s heart.”

“Well, see… what had happened was—“

“Stop. Right. There. You call yourself a lawyer. I’m appalled,” Harvey interjected, chiding his partner for his terrible story telling skills if only because one aspect of every highly skilled lawyer was their ability to weave a story that any judge or jury would believe.

“Mitchell’s wife is due any day now, and since only one of us could take leave and I cancelled mine so he could take more time off to spend with his wife before the baby arrived.”

Harvey stared at Mike, eyebrow raised, as he weighed the Mike’s statement for its truth. “Counselor, your facts don’t add up. Care to try again?”

Pursing his lips and twisting his mouth, Mike waited a bit and then admitted, “Maybe…”

“Mike?”

“Okay, okay,” Mike complied, holding his hands up in surrender. “He was set to TAD to the _USS Theodore Roosevelt_ , and I volunteered instead. So no Christmas for me with you and Grammy because I’ll be in the middle of the Persian Gulf.”

Rubbing his forehead, Harvey sighed. “How long?”

“45 days or so…” Mike said sheepishly, tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth. “Sorry,” he added with a shrug. He couldn’t decide who he was more upset about disappointing, Grammy or Harvey.

On the one hand, he loved Grammy and missed her while he was deployed; yet with Harvey, it was entirely different kind of love. The love he felt for Harvey sometimes left him questioning the power the lawyer had over him to the point that made him wonder how much longer he could stand being so far away from New York.

“It’s fine, Mike,” Harvey affirmed softly, adding, “So are you telling Grammy or am I?”

“Donna?”

Harvey rolled his eyes and shook his head at the overly cheesy grin on Mike’s face, understanding full while why Mike didn’t want to tell Grammy that he wasn’t coming home from Christmas. “Can you afford her?”

“Good point,” Mike hummed, mind already wondering to what he was going to buy Donna for Christmas. The redhead had been dropping hints for weeks about what she wanted for Christmas and Mike really did want to give her something amazing. Yet he knew absolutely nothing about designer clothes, shoes, or handbags. So it looked like he was going to take a stab in the dark and make a decision before he shipped out in the next week or so.

“Do I need to spot you the cash?” Harvey wondered aloud, though as soon as those words left his mouth he immediately regretted them because Mike’s face just shut down.

Money was the one thing that they never discussed, especially concerning the cost of Mike’s flights to and from Italy and Edith’s nursing facility. Harvey understood and respected Mike’s need to care for his grandmother without help. Yet it didn’t mean that Harvey hadn’t helped with an occasional bill or two when Edith was concerned, and Mike knew it and loved him for not making a huge deal out of it.

Bringing his hand up to his mouth, Mike faked a yawned and stretched, twisting his upper body slightly as he spoke, “Sorry Harvey, but I had a long day of bullshit. So I’m going to bed before I fall asleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harvey agreed, letting Mike’s lie slide. He had crossed that invisible line, so Mike had every right to be pissed at him. “A puddle of drool on your keyboard is never a hot look.”

“I do not drool,” Mike retorted with a tiny grin. “That’s all you.”

Harvey rolled his eyes and smiled, eyes already following Mike’s hand as it reached out to shut down their video chat. And as Mike’s hand hovered over the _end_ button, Harvey spoke up, “I love you, Sailor.”

“Love you too, Harvey,” Mike echoed before ending their call. Leaning back in his chair, Mike rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, staring at his desktop wallpaper. It was a photo of Grammy, Harvey, and him that Ray had taken the last time he was New York, and just looking at it, made him harden his resolve to get through the next 7 months. While he should’ve told Harvey, Mike hadn’t want to jinx the possibility that he’d be stateside again by spring.

Based on conversations he’d had with his commanding officer, by taking the TAD Mike could maneuver himself into a better position to be sent stateside again. So if 45…60 days on the ocean meant that Mike would be home to Harvey and Grammy sooner, then he was definitely going to take the TAD, even if it meant missing Christmas with them.

~*~*~*~

**MRoss says:**

Ready for the Christmas party?

**Donna says:**

Finishing for information?

**MRoss says:**

Possibly… ;)

**Donna says:**

What do you want, Michael Ross?!?!

**MRoss says:**

will there be pictures…?

**Donna says:**

There can be pictures but it’ll cost you.

**MRoss says:**

Reasonably?

**Donna says:**

Depends on your definition of the term ‘reasonable.’

**MRoss says:**

uh huh

He has to be there

**Donna says:**

Don’t worry Jessica got that part covered. Harvey’s ‘favorite’ client will be there

**MRoss says:**

in that case Donna Paulsen you have yourself a deal

**Donna says:**

Always a pleasure doing business with you Michael.

**MRoss says:**

I’ll let you get back to work…

~*~*~*~

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 11/22/2008

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** livingnyc@corenyc.com

**Subject:** 241 Fifth Avenue, 20PH

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 11/22/2008

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** livingnyc@corenyc.com

**Subject:** 53 Crosby Street, 5

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 11/23/2008

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** livingnyc@corenyc.com

**Subject:** 30 Beekman Place, 9/10B

 

 

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

are you trying to ask me something ;)

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Merely seeking a second opinion on my new condo. Don’t read anything into it, Mike.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Sure, okay if you say so

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

I’m serious Mike.

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Mike?

 

✉                                                                                                                     **Date:** 11/27/2008

**To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**From:** sales@brownstoner.com

**Subject:** 171 Engert Avenue, Brooklyn, NY

 

 

✉                                                                                                                     **Date:** 11/27/2008

**To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**From:** sales@brownstoner.com

**Subject:** 119 North 11 Street #3B, Brooklyn, NY

  


	3. December 2008

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is one thing I've learned from this experience is that by posting bi-weekly, I have more incentive to continuously work on this series because of all the wonderful reviews my readers leave me. Thank you!! *hugs*

✉                                                                                                                                  **Date:** 12/08/2008

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** leadinglady.donna@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Consider this a warning….

Here’s the pictures from the Christmas party you wanted, but don’t get mad at anything you might see in these… Mrs. Alcott can be very demanding when given enough alcohol.

Donna 

PS I expect my Christmas to be fitting my awesome personality and style.

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 12/09/2008

 **To:** leadinglady.donna@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** I CAN’T UNSEE!!!!! THAT WASN’T ENOUGH WARNING!!!

Please tell me she’s Harvey’s **_favorite_** client because seeing her hand grabbing Harvey’s ass is priceless. So priceless it should be a Mastercard commercial:

 **Tom Ford Suit:** $3,100

 **Saint Laurent Shoes:** $845

 **72 year old woman groping boyfriend’s ass:** priceless

As for your Christmas present, you’ll get nothing less. ;)

Mike

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 12/09/2008

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** I'm not blind

I know she gave you some pictures from the Christmas party, and if you were a smart, you’d burn them. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life on the sofa, you’d definitely burn them.

Harvey

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 12/10/2008

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: I'm not blind 

I don't know what you're talking about. What are you these pictures you speak of? Are they scandalous? After all, a deployed sailor has the right to know if his boyfriend is stepping out on him.

Mike

PS And since when do you care that Donna and I are in cahoots with each other?

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 12/10/2008

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: I'm not blind

You're a terrible liar, and you call yourself a lawyer. How's everything on the boat? Had any interesting cases?

I'm not sure what to address first, the _boyfriend_ or the _stepping out on_ remark. Last time, I check we aren't teenagers and this isn't the 1950s. Next you'll be asking to wear my Harvard ring.

Oh and I care about you and Donna, especially when you being in cahoots as you say means that my life is not my own.

Harvey

 

✉                                                                                                                                  **Date:** 12/12/2008

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: I'm not blind

I'll have you know, I'm an excellent liar. Just ask Grammy, wait no don't do that. She'll start telling lies about me. Forget I said that.

The carrier’s fine. A little boring but the views from the flight deck are beautiful. I’ll send a couple the next time I have a little longer computer time.

Forget your Harvard ring, I’d rather have your letterman sweater. ;)

You’re delusional if you think your life was anything but your own the minute you hired Donna, I’m just along for the ride.

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 12/12/2008

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: I'm not blind

I miss you

~*~*~*~

“Spec—“

“You bastard,” Mike ground out over the sat phone connection. With Christmas only a week away, Mike had ended up waiting over an hour and half to make a phone call, so his patience for bullshit was practically non-existent. “This is hard enough for me without you laying on the guilt. I hate that I’m missing Christmas and you can’t just send an email like that and not expect me to get mad.”

“Now wait a min—“ Harvey started, yet Mike was quick to interject, barreling right over him.

“No! You don’t get to talk. I’ve apologize enough for offering to take this assignment and we discussed how you can best support me, and I seem to recall us agreeing to leave maudlin at the door. I have almost 28 days left and you can’t do this to me. I won’t make it if you do.”

As Mike spoke, Harvey spun in his chair and gazed out over the Manhattan skyline, blinking back a few stray tears. Everything Mike was saying was right, they had agreed to not talk about missing each other, and Harvey had broken that promise. And all because after coming home from dinner with Grammy and while pouring his usual Friday night scotch, Harvey had found himself missing Mike more than ever. Maybe Christmas being around the corner had something to do with or the simple fact Mike was deployed to a ship in the Persian coast, which made him even further away from home. Either way, Harvey wasn’t certain why he had written much less sent those words to Mike.

“I’m sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t have sent it. There is no excuse for it,” Harvey admitted, “but I don’t regret sending it because it’s true.” Harvey could hear the sound of Mike’s breath ghosting through the speaker, letting him know that Mike was still there. So he decided to wait patiently, knowing that Mike would eventually talk again.

Resting his forearm against the payphone, Mike pressed his forehead on it, turning his head away from rest of the sailors waiting to use the phones. “I hate you,” Mike whispered, the tone of his voice almost bittersweet.

“Love you too, pooky,” Harvey quipped, knowing that Mike would appreciate a little dry humor mixed in with a heartfelt truth.

“I’ll write as soon as I can,” Mike laughed. “Give Grammy my love.”

“I will. Stay safe, sailor,” Harvey told him, ringing off before Mike could reply. Harvey hated long goodbyes, so he tended to treat them like band aids and do them quick and without fuss.

“How is he?” Donna asked from the doorway. She had waited until she knew Harvey’s phone call was finished before finally entering his office. There was just some things she respected and Harvey’s relationship with Mike was one of them.

“Lonely.”

With a nod of understanding, Donna turned on her heel and started back to her desk though Harvey’s voice stopped her. “Is that all you needed?”

“To check that you were okay?” Donna clarified as she paused briefly at the office door, not bothering to turn and look at Harvey before throwing out a swift, “yes,” in response to her own question.

~*~*~*~

“Ross!” A male voice barked while letting the hatch slam behind him, “you getting out of bed sometime this year?”

“No,” Mike stated firmly, well as firmly as he could through a stuffy nose and with his head buried under a lumpy Navy-issued pillow. “Leave me to die in peace.”

“But it’s Christmas,” the voice continued in a jovial tone, in spite of knowing his bunkmate was suffering from an ill-timed, yet minor case of the flu.

Pulling his head out from under his pillow, Mike glared darkly at the man he had the misfortune of being assigned quarters with… NCIS Special Agent Eric Hoff. If it had been any other ship, Mike probably wouldn’t have been assigned a bunkmate; but due to the nature of their jobs, the XO had felt it more prudent to put them together.

“And I feel like death warmed over, so leave me alone,” he grumbled, laying his head down on the pillow to lessen the throbbing in his temples while still being able to glare at Agent Hoff.

“You need to get laid,” Hoff told him as he dropped into one of the desk chairs, so he could look Mike in the eye.

“I **need** you to let me die in peace,” Mike croaked. “I’m sick. Major Nguyen gave me medicine and told me to sleep. Which I was doing until your noisy ass showed up.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hoff leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him, and whined, “But the guys don’t like it when I try to hang out with them without my wing man.”

“That’s cause you’re the narc,” Mike so unsympathetically pointed out, “and they know it.”

“How am I the narc and you aren’t?”

Mike silently regarded Hoff for a couple of minutes, and then spoke like he was speaking to small child, “Cause I’m the guy that’ll get them off for all the illegal shit they’ll eventually get caught for.”

Shaking his head, Hoff ignored Mike’s remark and decided to change topics, even going as far as to state the obvious. “Man, you look like shit.”

“Thanks asshole. Now go away so I can sleep.”

“Next time you write your girlfriend, I’m telling her that you’re a dick,” Hoff groused. 

“What girlfriend?” Mike asked, unsure if he actually heard Hoff right. The flu had done a number on his head, leaving him feeling like he was unable to follow simple conversations.

“The one you’re always writing home to,” Hoff replied simply.

Squinting at the NCIS agent with a dumbfounded expression on his flush face, Mike asked. “You mean my Grammy?”

“Say what!”

“My grandmother. 80 year old from Brooklyn. Gave birth to my dad. Doesn’t take shit from anybody, especially me,” Mike clarified, and luckily still lucid enough to not tack Harvey’s name on the end, because if there was one thing Mike had learned over the course of the last year, Grammy took even less shit from Harvey.

“Definitely man, next time we’re in the same city, I’m taking you out and finding you a girl or something,” Hoff conceded, though if Mike had been in full use of his faculties, he might have caught the tone in the agent’s voice that said he didn’t believe the line the lawyer was spinning him.

“Your concern for my well-being is so touching,” Mike sniffled before reaching out to snag a scratchy tissue from the box beside his head.

“Alright man, I’ll leave you to sleep,” Hoff told him. “Is there anyone you want me to email to let them know that you’re still alive?”

Lifting his head up, Mike racked his fingers through his hair, making the sweaty strands stand on end. “No, I’m good.”

“It sucks that you’re going to miss your computer time, and on Christmas,” Hoff remarked as he climbed to his feet again, and then pushed the chair under the desk.

“Thanks for the cheering up, Hoff. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Anytime man,” Hoff grinned. “I guess I’ll leave you to sleep.”

“Thanks.”

Even as Mike settled down again to sleep, he did so with a heavy heart. He couldn’t remember feeling this maudlin last Christmas, but then again last Christmas he just had Grammy and a friend with benefits arrangement with Harvey. It was funny how much can change in a year.

Pushing those sappy thoughts away, Mike rubbed his face and turned over, pulling his pillow over his head in the process. As much as he hated being sick, he hated being sick **and** away from his own bed. If he was lucky, Hoff would be gone for the foreseeable future, and Mike could actually get some rest.

Unfortunately thanks to Hoff’s arrival and the subsequent conversation, sleep proved to be more elusive than originally thought. With a single thought at the front of his mind, Mike rolled off the side of his bunk and crouch on the floor, waiting for the dizziness to pass before getting to his feet and stumbling over to his desk intent on grabbing his laptop and the lone television series he had brought with him.

The DVDs had been a gift Harvey, who had felt Mike needed to be educated on the finer points of _Star Trek_ and why the series should be held in such high esteemed. So when he had originally began the series, Mike had intended to find material to use when he later poked fun of Harvey; yet as he slowly progressed through the series, Mike found himself actually enjoying it. Not that he was going to let Harvey know that.

With laptop in hand, Mike stumbled back to bed, settling in for either a marathon of _Star Trek_ or a coma, whichever (happily) came first.

~*~*~*~

“Harvey.”

Looking away from his laptop briefly, Harvey’s eyes tracked the slender woman as she glided into his office on spiked heels and long legs. “Jessica.”

“Harvey…” Jessica drawled, all while arching an artfully sculpted eyebrow in Harvey’s direction.

“Jessica,” Harvey repeated again, turning so that he gave her his full attention, even if he had no wish to do so. Jessica only visited him when she needed something from him, usually something he wasn’t willing to give. “Now that we’ve finished with the introductions. Did you need something?”

“What are your plans for Christmas?” Jessica asked, then swiftly added in a small caveat, “and don’t tell me some hot blonde.”

“Whatever it is Jessica, the answer is no.”

“The client is Mrs. Alcott and she’s very insistent that she’ll not sign the merger documents unless you join her and her family in Aspen over Christmas.”

“You want me to prostitute myself for a merger?” Harvey elucidated, not that he needed to. He just wanted Jessica to admit to what she was asking of him in her on-so roundabout way. 

“In a word: yes. In nine words: How is this any different than any other time?”

Pulling a wounded face, Harvey gazed into Jessica’s eyes and said, “She makes me feel cheap like I’m hers to be played with.”

Jessica’s eyebrow arched as she gave Harvey a look that anyone, especially Harvey, would read simply as ‘seriously.’ At seeing the look, Harvey merely shrugged, while managing to keep a straight face. He had plans to spend Christmas with Edith and he had no intention of missing just because Mrs. Alcott want to abuse her power with the firm. 

With a sigh, Jessica rolled her eyes, mentally counting to ten in a vain attempt to quell the urge to kill Harvey. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?” Harvey asked, feigning ignorance.

“You’ve known me a long time, so that means you know what I mean, so cut the bullshit and talk.”

“I volunteer at an old folks home and—“ Harvey began, even though the words felt hollow and left a terrible taste in his mouth. Yet, it was no one’s business how he spent his friend time and spending Christmas day with Edith meant a lot to Harvey.

With an incredible look, Jessica interjected. “You volunteer—“

“I’m a very giving person, Jessica,” he countered, cutting the managing partner off like she had him.

“Only when it serves your bottom line.”

“I’m hurt,” Harvey said, clutching his heart as he uttered those words. “Really and deeply, that you’d say that.”

“Now as I was saying—“

“The answer is still no,” Harvey stated firmly. “I have plans and I’m not willing to change them.”

“Harvey!” Jessica exclaimed with a sharp tone.

“Damn it, Jessica. I rarely take vacation and even when I do, it’s usually with the best interests of the firm at heart. So you owe me this because Louis’s fuck up in August that cost me my vacation plans.”

With a deep, put upon sigh, Jessica said, “Just this once.”

“Thank you for your benevolence,” Harvey replied, barely keeping his tone from delving into the realm of scathing. However instead of rising to the bait, Jessica turned on her heel and sauntered out with the same elegance and grace that she had entered his office with.

~*~*~*~

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Sending 15 txts in a row isn’t going to compel a reply

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Im home btw just turned on my phone again

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Grammy is very upset with you.

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

She says to prepare yourself for a bitchfest when you’re stateside

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Her words not mine

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Tell her to bring it

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

I’ll be ready for her

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Wait no dont tell her that I’ll never be ready for that

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

She says smart man

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Is she looking over your shoulder?

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Yes I am Michael. Do you have a problem with that?

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Hi Grammy. I hope Harvey’s been watching out for you.

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

More like I’ve been watching out for him. He works too much Michael

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

I know Grammy and I tell him that he just has a bad habit of not listening to me

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

I’m right here

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

I can read this conversation

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

That’s nice dear.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Sorry to cut this short but I didnt sleep very much on the transport so Im headed to bed for a couple hours.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Harvey I’ll send you an email when I’m more awake

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Love you both and stay out of trouble til I get home

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

talk soon nite

~*~*~*~

Turning the collar of his coat up against the icy wind and rain, Mike tucked his cell phone into the created space, waiting patiently for the call to connect as he walked towards the bus stop. “Just finished my Christmas shopping,” he announced cheerfully into the phone as soon as Harvey picked up. 

“You told me you were done before your TAD,” Harvey countered, eye quirked in Donna’s direction as she stared intently at him through his glass wall. Never in his life had Harvey imagined that he’d be throwing out military jargon like a pro.

Even though Harvey was unable to see him, Mike grinned cheekily into the phone and admitted, “I lied.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to admit to, Counselor?” Harvey joked, picking up on Mike’s good mood. The temporary assignment had been rough for them both; but at least in Harvey’s case, he had Edith and Donna to keep him from going crazy due to the separation.

“My flight is book for January 7th and I am not due back until the end of January,” Mike replied, bouncing on his toes.

At hearing the good news, Harvey was unable and unwilling to stop a smile from tugging his lips. “While we are in the spirit of honesty, I guess I’ll tell some home truths too.”

“Like…”

“I lied too. Donna did my Christmas shopping.”

“I knew it!” Mike crowed, causing the elderly woman standing near him under the bus stop to give him an odd look.

“Yeah, yeah. She didn’t do all of it,” Harvey snorted, rolling his eyes at Mike’s over-the-top response. Though he wasn’t entirely put off by his partner’s outrageous behavior because he’d missed these moments while Mike was deployed. Life on the aircraft carrier meant Mike’s phone and internet privileges were at the whim of an outside force, and Mike had to watch what he did or said while on the phone.

As he looked away from the window for a brief moment, Harvey caught the slight movement of a person other than Donna and turned, giving the intruder his partial attention. Holding up his finger in the universal sign of _give me a minute_ , Harvey rested his elbows on the desk as he gazed at the olive skinned paralegal through the glass.

While Rachel Zane was pretty in an exotic sort of way, Harvey mostly found her attitude to be grating, if only because she thought she was shit when it came to her job; but all Harvey saw when he looked at her was a woman scared to go to law school, which was one reason why he usually sent Donna to collect any documents he needed from her.

“She still did some of it, Harvey. I’m offended for me and Grammy,” Mike teased. “Maybe I should email Donna and see if she got me those string of pearls that all the other trophy wives have at your firm?”

“And you wonder why I call you a girl,” Harvey quipped, grinning even as he gave a small eye roll when his eyes landed on Zane, who had begun to impatiently tap her foot. If her time was as valuable as she thought it was, then she leave the files with Donna and be on her merry way. “I said some. She bought hers and Jessica’s, that’s all. I had plans to go the weekend before Christmas, but I ended up having to work. Then Edith and I decided to save Christmas until you were home.”

With a soft smile, Mike murmured a quiet, “Harvey,” into the phone, overwhelmed by his family’s decision to wait to celebrate Christmas. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harvey replied dismissively, not willing to get maudlin while at work, especially with Zane staring straight at him.

Even though his partner couldn’t see him, Mike grinned coyly into the phone and prodded Harvey by asking, “So what am I getting? Really though, I don’t want the pearls. I was kidding.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was!” Mike laughed. “Ass.”

Deciding that it was time to let Rachel deliver her files, Harvey rested back against his chair and motioned her into his inner sanctuary, while remarking with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, “I aim to please.”

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at Harvey’s statement, all while silently observing Jessica’s right hand man. In spite of being just a junior partner, everyone worth their salt knew that Harvey was Jessica’s bulldog and had been since the moment he walked through the firm’s doors following his stint at the DA’s office.

After hanging up the phone, Harvey finally leveled Rachel with a steely gaze, giving her his full attention for the first time since she had arrived outside his office. “Yes?”

“I finished the Maeda files,” Rachel announced firmly, holding the aforementioned files out for Harvey to take; though Harvey had no intention of playing her game because he knew exactly what she was trying to do… endear herself to him. Flicking his eye to the corner of his desk, Harvey stared her down until she finally got the message and placed the files on his desk.

“You can go now,” Harvey told her pointedly, using his tone to let her know that it was in her best interest not to open her mouth again. Spinning on her heel, Rachel practically stomped out of corner office, silently fuming under her breath at Harvey’s dismissal.

Though as she left, she couldn’t help be throw an angry glance over her shoulder to Donna, who merely smiled before returning to her own work. She had told Rachel to just leave the files with her, and yet the paralegal had refused to listen, choosing instead to deliver the files herself. So she had no one to blame when it came to dealing with Harvey’s biting attitude. Not that Donna blamed him, finding the time to speak with Mike was tough, so Harvey had every right to relish when they did happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter. Some if not all of you might have gotten a sense of deja vu towards the end of this chapter and there is a reason for this. As I read over another (already written) chapter, I noticed that I completely skipped over December and all the potential that was there. So I spent the last two weeks, writing this chapter and revising some of the timeline, adding little nuggets of gold into what I've already written.
> 
> Having said all this, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as much as the previous two. See you in two weeks!!


	4. January 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter almost didn't happen because for some strange reason the USB folder containing this series became corrupted, so if I haven't uploaded a copy to my OneDrive, I have a strong suspicious you'd be without a chapter for the foreseeable future and I'd rocking back and forth in a corner right about now. I'm not, so huzzah! 
> 
> Now onto the next chapter!

Groaning softly in frustration, Harvey began to shuffle the files and papers littering his desk for the third time. He had a meeting in an hour and he couldn’t figure out what he’d done with that damn file.

“Donna!” He yelled, not waiting for her poke her head in his door before continuing, “Have you seen the Arbuckle-Stoke files.”

“No, boss,” Donna answered as she leaned against the handle of his glass door. “Did you take them home with you?”

“Shit,” Harvey exclaimed when he realized he had, and then shook his head. “Thanks Donna.”

With a grin, Donna turned and sashayed back to her desk, though not before delivering a parting shot, “I aim to please.”

Resting one fist on his desk, Harvey took a second to collect his thoughts before grabbing for his office line, half-way through dialing before collapsing into his black leather chair. As he waited for the line to pick up, Harvey attempted to put his desk back in order though he quickly gave up in disgust, not really caring because it just something to give his hands to do.

“Please tell me you are dressed and at home.”

“Why…” Mike drawled, curiosity already perked. Phone calls were normal when he was Naples; but when Mike was in the same state as Harvey, the lawyer never called unless he had to. With Mike’s visits being as short as they were, Mike’s time tended to revolve around Grammy and Harvey, so why did he need to hear Mike’s voice when the sounds of his moans from the previous night were still ringing in Harvey’s ears. “In the mood for a little phone sex at the office. Kinky.”

“Mind out of the gutter, Mike,” Harvey ordered. “Now answer the question, are you dressed and still at home?”

“Yes,” Mike stated in his best sailor tone. It was the same tone he used when answering superior officers and his Grammy… funnily enough.

“Good,” Harvey sighed, adding, “there is a stack of files on the bar. I need you to bring them to me.”

Mike’s laughter spilled out over their connection, causing Harvey involuntarily smile because of it. “So I’m your errand boy now?” Mike teased, even though Harvey could already hear the telltale sounds of movement, meaning that Mike was searching for keys and his wallet.

“If it gets you bring those files, then yes.”

“I’m ignoring you now,” Mike told him, all while locating his set of house keys that had somehow managed to end up in the couch cushions.

With a roll his eyes, Harvey waited a beat until the sounds of keys clanking together reached his ears. Mike hadn’t let him down yet, and it looked like he wasn’t going to this time either. “Aw, did I hurt your feelings, Pooky?”

“Oh look, here’s your file.”

“Call Donna when you get here, she’ll meet you in the lobby,” Harvey told him before tacking on an almost gentle warning, “and try not to crash your bike.”

“You mean you aren’t sending Ray for me?” Mike questioned, sounding hurt at the prospect of having to cycle though the cold and the snow to bring Harvey the file he forgot. Where was the fairness in that? He wasn’t the one, who forgot the damn thing on the kitchen counter.

“Let me think for a minute… no,” Harvey drawled, not giving it a moment’s thought. He needed the files within the hour and if he called Ray to collect Mike, then there was no guarantee that they make to the office in time for his meeting.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Make it thirty, Mike,” Harvey stressed. “I don’t want your pretty face splattered across the front-end of a taxi.”

“That was almost sweet,” Mike voiced over the sound of him pulling on this coat. “Harvey?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

Unable to stop a small heartfelt smile from appearing, Harvey murmured a soft, “I know,” before raising his voice again and barking, “Now bring me my file.”

“I take it all back.”

~*~*~*~

Tucking the files under his arm, Mike climbed out of the yellow taxi and bowed his head against the icy rain that had been blanketing the city since the later part of the morning. After leaving Harvey’s apartment, Mike had debated for all of three seconds about riding his bike before deciding to take a chance and hail a taxi. Luckily for him in a matter a minutes, one pulled to a stop in front of him, dumping its contents on the sidewalk in front of him, a woman with a small toddler, who just so happened to live in Harvey’s building.

“In one piece, I see,” Donna greeted as soon as Mike pulled open the glass doors of the Manhattan skyscraper. From her spot near the turnstiles, Donna could see that in addition to Harvey’s files, Mike had also thought to bring them coffee from Harvey’s favorite place.

“Ye a little faith,” Mike laughed, holding out the coffee tray for Donna to take.

Accepting the tray with a smile of her own, Donna leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the younger man’s cheek before stepping back, glancing at Mike’s assemble from head to toe. “I like the coat.”

“Donna, looking as lovely as always,” Mike returned sincerely while giving her arm a brief squeeze. “Navy issued,” he supplied to Donna’s unasked question concerning the origins of his blue-black waist-length peacoat.

“Are you sure you’re madly in love with Harvey?” Placing her free hand on her hip, Donna leveled Mike with her best scrutinizing look, mentally assessing if there was any chance of this charming sailor ever leaving her boss.

“Yes.”

“Just checking, so the files?” Donna conceded while holding her hand out for the files Mike had braved the snow to bring Harvey.

With a playful bow, Mike handed over the files and grinned. “Here you are, my lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Donna replied, not bothered by the amount of time she was wasting by not bringing the files immediately up to Harvey. However, she figured Harvey owed her a little time to spend with her favorite sailor.

Rocking back and forth on his Converses, Mike flashed a toothy grin at Donna, finally asking, “Good seats?”

If it hadn’t been for the coffee and files in her nimble fingers, Donna would’ve grabbed Mike into a big hug. Instead, she settled for gushing, “Oh my god, they were amazing. How did you get them?”

“I know a guy,” Mike said with a nonchalant shrug, “who knows his sister.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Funny.”

“I try,” Mike joked, even as his gaze moved from her and to a heavy set man barreling towards them. Instead of the stereotypical good looks that one expected from a Manhattan lawyer (cough: Harvey), he stood shorter than Mike with black hair he buzzed cut, in attempt to hide his balding appearance.

“Donna.”

Turning on her spiked heel, the redhead blinked at the other man, echoing his name in much the same way he had spoken hers. “Louis.”

“Who’s your friend?” He asked, his focus never wavering from Mike’s form.

If Mike had been anything other than a lawyer, he probably would’ve found Louis’s actions creepy; but the JAG officer knew when he was being sized by the competition, and that was definitely what the older man was doing because he probably had a crush on Donna and saw Mike was a rival for her affections.

“Nobody special,” Donna declared, though she did throw Mike a wink as she said it.

Understanding that it was his time to leave, Mike stepped away, clutching his own coffee in his hand as he turned away and headed back toward the lobby’s glass doors. “Exactly, I was just leaving.”

“Uh?” With his head tilted to the side, Louis watched Mike make a break from the door, only stopping when his hand was wrapped around the handle.

“Bye, Donna,” Mike called back, giving her a jaunty wave for good effect.

Barely keeping her laughter in check, Donna waved at Mike with the hand holding Harvey’s file and proclaimed, “Bye man that I definitely don’t know.”

With questioning eyes, Louis glanced back and forth between Donna and the young man in the dark colored peacoat, who was disappearing into the back of an awaiting taxi. After falling into silence, Donna decided to wait a couple of minutes to see if Louis would speak, and when didn’t, she decided that it was time to take Harvey his files and the coffee Mike had procured for them. As she started to the turnstiles, Rachel fell into step with her, a curious expression on her pretty face.

“Who was that I saw you talking too?”

Casting the paralegal a side-eyed glance, Donna smiled coyly and tapped her building access card on the turnstile reader, before looking Rachel straight in the face and asking, “Who?”

“Donna…” Rachel drawled, putting her hands on her hips and peering at Donna, hoping her look would have its intended effect. Unfortunately for her, Donna was made of stronger stuff, so the look had no effect on the redhead whatsoever.

“Oh, just a friend,” Donna replied off-handedly as she gazed at her figure in the shiny metal of the elevator door.

“A friend or a _friend_?”

With an eye roll and a fond expression of exasperation, Donna said, “Never mind, you. Was there something you needed, Rachel?”

“Can’t I be nosy?” The young paralegal quipped, causing Donna to twist her lips slightly in mild aversion to the question.

“When it comes to him…” Donna began, her thought trailing off a little at the end before she concluded, quick forcefully, “I’ll have to say no.”

Snorting under her breath, Rachel’s gaze narrowed at Donna’s guarded responses concerning the cute sandy haired brunette she’d been laughing and talking with. “Why?” Rachel whine, her voice reminding Donna very much of her niece’s when she wasn’t getting her way.

“Rachel,” Donna stated firmly, “just drop it.” And like it had been prearranged the elevators opened, allowing Donna to simply glide with her gifts for Harvey. Knowing when she’d been bet, Rachel followed silently, letting the matter go entirely. And if Donna wanted to tell her about the brunette, Rachel knew the redhead would open up eventually and of course Rachel would be there to soak up all the juicy details.

~*~*~*~

“Mike?”

Closing the front door behind him, Harvey left his briefcase and long coat on the nearest flat surface before venturing further into the near silent apartment. He had tried calling Mike about meeting for dinner after work; but after the third call and still no answer, Harvey gave up and came home. Plus if it turned out that Mike decided that he wanted dinner later, then he was more than capable of dialing for take-out himself.

Though all thoughts of dinner fled Harvey’s mind when he came to the living room, stopping just inside the doorway at the sight of Mike sprawled in front of the TV turned on low and fast asleep. With a soft quirk of his lips, Harvey shed his suit jacket and laid it on the back of the sofa on his way to Mike. As much as he hated to wake his partner, Harvey knew that Mike would sleep better in a bed.

Leaning down, Harvey reached out, gently shaking Mike’s shoulder, and murmured, “Mike, time for bed,” in to the sailor’s ear, watching as the young man jerked underneath his touch.

With fluttering eyes, Mike slowly began to stretch, sprawling even more across the plush couch that he’d come to covet in only because it was in Harvey’s apartment. “What time is it?” He mumbled, licking his lips and yawning before he finally opened his eyes to peer into Harvey’s tired face.

There were hard lines and dark bruising under the lawyer’s eyes, a sign that he hadn’t been sleeping as much as Mike would’ve liked. So with tomorrow being Saturday and Grammy having plans with her bridge club, Mike decided that it was time to force Harvey to take a day for himself, and enjoy having a lazy Saturday. But in order for that to happen, he, first, had to tire Harvey out enough for the lawyer to close his eyes for longer than a couple of hours.

Keeping that thought firmly at the front of his mind, Mike pushed his body up, climbing off the couch in such a way that ensured his t-shirt pulled tight across his chest while flashing some of his toned stomach. As he moved, Mike keep one eye on Harvey’s face, watching as his partner’s hands flew to the buttons of his vest and began working on them, quickly pulling them apart as he walked towards Mike, who met him halfway with a sly grin.

“Hi.” Mike’s breath ghosted across Harvey’s lips before he pulled the older man into a heated kiss, tongue and teeth plundering Harvey’s mouth. Long minutes passed before the pair broke apart, Mike wetting his lips and asking with a lone eyebrow raised, “Bed?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Harvey murmured as he gripped Mike’s hips and tugged him flush against his body.

Mike pressed a soft kiss to Harvey’s pulse point and then brought a hand down, clasping one of Harvey’s in a backwards handhold, so he could tow Harvey back in the direction of their bedroom. Yes, their bedroom, because no matter how much Harvey liked to say otherwise, that room and especially that bed had become theirs the moment Harvey told Mike he loved him.

Taking two steps back, Mike guided Harvey forward as he walked backwards, trusting that his partner wouldn’t let him run into anything. Yet Harvey had other plans because as soon as the bedroom door was in sight, he took control and backed Mike into the nearest wall, thrusting his knee into the v of Mike’s legs and causing him to utter an illicit moan at the familiar pressure.

When the soft moan of pleasure fell from the sailor’s mouth, Harvey smirked and then repeated the gesture, drawing more sounds of rapture from his lover’s lips. Though Mike wasn’t the type the take a backseat to sex, so while Harvey’s focus was firmly on teasing him, Mike reached out and undid Harvey’s trousers, pulling his belt through the loops and dropping it on the floor. Which was the trick to get Harvey’s undivided attention.

“Just because your clothes come from the GAP doesn’t give you the right to mistreat my Tom Ford belt,” Harvey grumbled as stared unhappily at where Mike had thrown his belt.

Mike simply grinned, deciding to ignore Harvey’s jab at his fashion sense, and retorted, “Take me to bed or lose me forever,” as he slipped his hand into Harvey’s trouser, cupping him gently through the soft fabric of his boxer-briefs.

After mirroring Mike’s moan with one of his own, Harvey finally pulled away, dislodging Mike’s hand from his person. “Show me the way, honey,” Harvey quipped, reciting the next line of dialogue from _Top Gun._

“I think you missed a word,” Mike pointed out, causing Harvey to snort and roll his eyes.

“You’re already home, sailor.”

Mike’s face flushed at hearing Harvey’s words, because while he knew Harvey loved him, it was still the little things like him admitting this apartment was Mike’s home that let Mike know that this Manhattan shark was in it for the long-term. Well that and the fact he was seeking Mike’s opinion on the new condo he was buying, now that he was firmly settled as a junior partner at Pearson Hardman.

The corner of Harvey’s mouth twitched in the semblance of a tiny grin at knowing his statement was the reason for Mike’s face turning such a cute shade of pink. Not that he’d ever admit out loud that any part of Mike was cute. Hot, definitely. Cute, on the other hand, was for six year little girls with pink ribbons in their hair. “Are we getting this show on the road anytime soon, Lieutenant?”

“Promises, promise,” Mike muttered as he took Harvey’s hand in his own, slipping under it, so he could finish their earlier trek to the bedroom.

Although once inside, Harvey was quick to turn the tables again by gently shoving Mike until the brunette was seated on the edge of the bed and watching with hooded eyes as he slowly shed the rest of his clothes, leaving himself standing completely bare to the roving eyes of his lover.

“Now I feel overdressed,” Mike joked as his immediately brought his hand up and started dragging the collar of his worn t-shirt over his head, making his regulation haircut look like it belonged on a hedgehog instead of an officer in the United States Navy JAG Corps.

Racking his fingers through Mike’s hair, Harvey made a half-hearted attempt of putting Mike’s hair in some semblance of order before simply giving up, deciding that the hedgehog look was a good look for Mike. After removing his fingers from Mike’s hair, Harvey ran the tips of his fingers down Mike’s smooth skin, only stopping once he reached the brunette’s chin and tipping it back, forcing Mike to look him in the eye. And once Mike’s full attention trained on him, Harvey leaned down and caught Mike’s lips in a gentle kiss as he rested his free hand on Mike’s slender shoulder.

Mike grinned into the kiss and spread his knees, waiting until Harvey had stepped between them to bring his left leg up and draping it over Harvey’s hip. With a slight eye roll, Harvey removed his hand from Mike’s chin and rested it on the underside of Mike’s jean-clad calf, clasping it gently as he used his other hand to send Mike sprawling across their king sized bed, earning a bark of laughter from the younger man when their kiss broke.

Now that he had Mike had where he wanted him, Harvey climbed onto the bed, straddling Mike’s straight leg on bended knee as he reached out to undo the buttons on Mike’s worn jeans. As Harvey worked on helping him lose his remaining clothing, Mike decided to take a moment to appreciate his partner’s toned and trimmed body by trailing nimble figures across warm golden skin. Though with a single tap on his hip from Harvey, Mike lifted his hips and watched as Harvey pulled his jeans and boxers off in one swift go, leaving him bare to the lawyer’s lust-filled eyes.

Holding his arms out, Mike drew Harvey forward and then down, forcing him to spread his body over Mike’s. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he muttered into Harvey’s ear, “and save lazy for tomorrow.”

“I accept your terms, counselor,” Harvey told him as he wrapped his hand around Mike’s cock and squeezed, causing the younger man to gasp hotly beneath him.

“Then get on with it,” Mike challenged, matching Harvey’s dirty trick with one of his own.

Without saying a word, Harvey leaned over and grabbed the bottle of lube off the nightstand, flicking the top open and drizzling it over his fingers. Anticipating Harvey’s movements, Mike lifted his hips and then waited until he felt the tip of Harvey’s index circle his rim, slowly massaging the puckered skin.

“Kiss me,” Mike gasped when Harvey’s finger finally breached him, sending surges of pleasure up and down Mike’s spine. Harvey grinned and did as he was told, pressing heated kisses into Mike’s skin as he went to work, using deft fingers to slowly stretch and prepare Mike to take him.

After what seemed like a small eternity for the both of them, Harvey finally stopped, withdrawing his fingers and setting back on his kneels while Mike groaned at the loss. With Harvey kneeling before him, Mike bent his knees and then quirked an eyebrow in silent invitation, his laughter turning into a long moan when Harvey surged forward and pushed in, bottoming out in one stroke.

“You wanted quick and dirty, baby,” Harvey gasped as he pulled almost completely out of Mike’s willing body before bottoming out again. “How’s this?” Rolling his eyes, Mike grasped Harvey’s shoulders and hung on, toes curling and uncurling as Harvey took him again and again, until Mike finally had enough and turned the tables on him, drawing an earthshattering orgasm from Harvey that left him cuddly, just how Mike liked him.

~*~*~*~ 

✉                                                                                                                                                                             **Date:** 01/12/2009

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** listings@corcoran.com

**Subject:** 425 East 13th Street

 

Meet me here @ 1:30pm.   Harvey

  

Spinning on his conversed heel, Mike gave Harvey a silly leer as he flicked his eyes towards the leopard print bedding in the guest bedroom, jokingly asking, “Please tell me that you’re keeping it”.

“No,” Harvey stated evenly as he peered inside the room’s attached bathroom. While the furniture staging wasn’t to his taste, Harvey had yet to find fault with the size or the floor plan of the penthouse condo.

“But Harvey…” Mike pouted just to annoy Harvey.

“This isn’t a trashy bordello.”

Quirking a lone eyebrow, Mike tilted his head and peered curiously at his partner. “Since when have you been in a bordello? Is there something you want to tell me, honey?”

“Honey?”

“Sweetheart?” Mike tried again, grinning.

“Mike?”

“What?” Mike challenged. “You call me Pooky. I should be allowed to give you a term of endearment.”

“Neither honey or sweetheart are the kinds of endearments I want to hear,” Harvey replied offhandedly, his attention divided between Mike and the view from the guest bedroom window.

“Oh, I know what kinds of endearments you want to hear,” Mike leered stupidly, knowing that his remark made little to no sense; but he didn’t really care because it managed to get a small chuckle out of Harvey’s normally indifferent face. 

Holding his hand out, Harvey waited for Mike to clasp it before drawing him in, pulling the younger man into a loose hug. “How do you like it?”

“What do you think?”

“I asked first,” Harvey growled playfully while squeezing Mike’s hip. “Now stop evading the question, counselor.”

With a put-upon sigh and a roll of his eyes, Mike said, “It’s very you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sleek and modern,” Mike supplied like Harvey was deliberately being obtuse. “Are you going to take it?”

“Yeah,” Harvey breathed, “I think I am,” before he kissed Mike.

Mike smiled into the kiss and then pulled away, smirking. “I’m not helping you move.”

“You’d probably break all my dishes,” Harvey snorted, causing Mike to squawk indigently at Harvey’s accusation.

“Now I’m definitely not helping you,” Mike informed him.

Though with the appearance of his realtor, Harvey turned his head and gazed at her, waiting silently for her to speak, while Mike closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the side of Harvey’s face, burying his nose into the soft strands of his lover’s hair.

“Everything okay, gentlemen,” she asked with understanding eyes. She’d been wondering about the nature of their relationship, since meeting them downstairs, and now she had her answer.

As she patiently waited for Harvey’s response, she couldn’t help but admire what a striking pair they made. If only because never in a million years would she had thought them a couple; Harvey Specter oozed the very essence of Manhattan while the younger man, Mike, looked like he still belonged in college.

“Draw up the papers, Sasha,” Harvey told her, “I’m taking it.” With a smile on her face, Sasha turned and left, leaving them alone once again.

Leaning back, Mike reached up and turned Harvey’s face, forcing the lawyer to look him in the eye. “Still not helping you move,” Mike singsonged, ending it with a madcap grin.

“Come on, Pooky,” Harvey groused, a couple minutes later after he had finally managed to untangled himself from Mike’s octopus-like hold. “We got some contracts to read over.”

“What do I get out of it?”

Harvey pretended to think about it a couple seconds as he walked to the door, and it was only after he crossed the threshold that he replied, calling back, “A night not spent on the couch.”

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment, Harvey!”


	5. February 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm sorry that this chapter turned out to be kind of smaller than I wanted, I do hope that everyone enjoys it.

“Why am I automatically the girl in this relationship?”

Rolling his eyes, Harvey tucked the phone into his shoulder, readying himself for what he knew would be a long discussion involving the condo he just closed on.

“If the pearls fit,” Harvey joked before reaching forward and grabbing the design boards from the coffee table. He had been looking over the design choices his interior decorator had sent over, and it was only after three days of indecision that he finally gave into the urge and emailed Mike pictures of the design boards.

“Hil-arious,” Mike drawled, even as he clicked through the images he had saved on his laptop, causing to Harvey to grin into the phone’s mouthpiece. “Stop smiling, Harvey.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Sure,” Mike retorted with a roll of his eyes.

Clearing his throat, Harvey attempted to bring Mike’s attention back the matter at hand. “So thoughts, opinions… Give me something here.”

“Honest opinion?” Mike asked, peering closely at the minimalist design ideas, which reminded him very much of the waiting room of a Manhattan office building than someone’s living room. The color palette was a mixture of greys, blacks, and whites while the furniture were all clean lines and modern looking. “It’s cold. Impersonal. Monotone… Shall I go on?” Mike answered.

“Nobody asked you,” Harvey grumbled, clearly not liking Mike’s response because it was the same thing Donna had said when she’d seen the choices the interior designer had sent over.

“Asshole.”

“So I’m told.”

Mike stayed silent for few minutes before finally asking the question that had been at the front of his mind since receiving Harvey’s email. “Does it really matter what I like or don’t?”

“It’s your condo too,” Harvey stated simply like the answer was obvious, especially after including him in the decision process.  

“Is it?” Mike countered, tone unnaturally sharp as though he hadn’t been expecting Harvey’s answer to be that. After all, neither had made a point of really discussing where their relationship was going.

“Mike,” Harvey sigh as he rubbed his forehead tiredly. He wasn’t ready to have this discussion over the phone, especially while they were separated by an ocean. Maybe he should have taken Edith’s advice and actually talked to Mike before he left for Naples. She had warned him that sometimes Mike could be a little obtuse, and that he might need to be hit over the head a little before he finally grasped the big picture.

“It’s an honest question, Harvey,” Mike pointed out. “We’ve never discussed where this was going, so forgive me for being confused that you’re seeking my opinion on something like decorating choices for your new condo.”

Continuing to rub his forehead, Harvey dropped the design boards and leaned back on the coach, barely keeping another sigh from escaping. “I assumed you understood what I was asking when I wanted your opinion on the new condo. I was asking you to make this your home too, Mike. I want you to consider this your home, especially when you’re stationed somewhere else.”

“Harvey…”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Harvey confessed, adding gently, “but you’re worth it.” Through the speaker, Harvey heard Mike take a sharp intake of breath.

“Bastard,” Mike murmured though his tone held no malice. “How do you always manage to say the right things?”

“It’s my natural charm.”

Mike gave a bark of laughter before switching back to their original topic. “Decorate the condo however you want, all I want is a comfy bed with you in it.”

“I think that can be arranged, Counselor,” Harvey agreed, grinning.

“So when’s moving day?”

“In the next couple of weeks, the designer wants my decision about these boards by Monday,” Harvey told him. “Are you sure you don’t have a preference, Mike?”

“Positive. I’ve never felt the need to decorate. I mean, I spent my college years in beige dorm after beige dorm and Newport wasn’t much different, I just lived in a beige apartment, instead.”

“Never?”

“Never,” Mike affirmed, grinning at the shock in Harvey’s voice. “If I’ve learned one thing from the Navy, there’s no need to put down roots. Especially when you’re a bachelor because odds are, you’ll be in bachelors’ quarters.”

“That’s just tragic.”

“I know right.”

After a quick glance of his watch, Harvey asked, “So how’s your day been?”

“Slow. Did couple of errands, a little bit of case review… nothing major,” Mike replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. “What about you?”

“Mergers,” Harvey sighed, unable to keep the boredom out of his voice. Normally Harvey would’ve had no trouble getting through a stack of documents, but the Alcott merger was turning into a tedious endeavor that he just wanted to drop into the lap of the closest 5th year associate.

“Sounds riveting,” Mike drawled in almost the same bored voice as Harvey.

Harvey rolled his eyes at Mike’s teasing and said, “We can’t all spend our days prosecuting wayward sailors and marines.”

“You think that’s what I do all day?” Mike laughed. “I’m lucky to get a court martial every six months. Most of my days are spent writing wills, power of attorneys, and giving advice on landlord disputes.”

“Oh god. How are you not bored?”

“It’s not so bad,” Mike admitted solemnly. “I’m helping people, and I’ve met some interesting people along the way.”

“I can imagine,” Harvey told him.

Sticking his tongue out, even though Harvey couldn’t see him, Mike grumbled, “Nobody asked you.”

“Did I hurt your feelings, Pooky?”

“Jerk,” Mike retorted through a deep yawn. Even though it was Saturday, Mike had woken up at his normal time of five to run his usual five miles before going into work, a habit that started while at the Naval Justice School.

“Am I keeping you up?”

“No, no.” Mike murmured around another yawn, “I’m good.”

“Get some sleep, Mike,” Harvey all but ordered, adding, “I’ll call tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” Mike agreed, not putting up much of fight. “Night.”

With a shake of his head at hearing Mike’s tone, Harvey smiled and returned Mike’s ‘night’ with his own before hanging up the phone. Harvey had no intention of being the reason why Mike was up passed his bedtime; plus, he had a couple of hours of work still ahead of him if he wanted to fall into his own bed at a reasonable hour.

~*~*~*~ 

✉                                                                                                                               **Date:** 02/13/2009

**To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**From:** mikeross@gmail.com

**Subject:** Consider this your Valentine’s Day gift

 

 

✉                                                                                                                                  **Date:** 02/13/2009

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**Subject:** re: Consider this your Valentine’s Day gift 

But Pooky, I didn’t get you anything.

 

“Which associate did you make cry this time?" 

Looking up from his laptop, Harvey leaned back and gazed his executive assistant, all while maintaining the madcap grin on his lips. “That’s Louis,” he fired back.

“Your grin would say otherwise,” Donna countered pointedly. “What did you do?”

Harvey rolled his eyes at her insinuation, giving a quick “nothing,” before deciding to admit the truth, “he’s PCSing come April.”

“Close?”

“Connecticut,” Harvey told her with a shrug, unbothered by the exact location of Mike’s new permanent duty station as long as it was somewhere in the continental US and preferably on the Eastern seaboard.

“Kind of close,” she conceded through her own grin.

With a sharp look and quirk of his eyebrow, Harvey quipped, “There’s no ocean.”

“True. So I think we should celebrate,” Donna announced, clapping her hands gleefully. “We can grab Edith and go have dinner and drinks.”

“Edith and I, yes,” Harvey drawled like he was speaking to small child. “But how do you factor into this?”

Clasping her chest, Donna put on her best hurt face and exclaimed, apparently deeply shock by her boss’s statement, “Harvey! Mike is the little brother I never knew I wanted.”

“Stop giving me that look,” Donna ordered, gazing at Harvey’s skeptical expression. Though before Harvey had the opportunity to reply, she held up a manicured finger and spoke into her wireless headset. “Harvey Specter’s office… Hi, Edith. Yes, we were just discussing the good news… Why yes, I’d love to join you and Harvey for dinner… Tonight, you say?”

Rolling his eyes, Harvey mouthed an exaggerated, “get out,” figuring if Edith was really on the other end of the line, Donna would eventually transfer the call to him. So with a parting grin, Donna turned and sauntered away, filling Harvey’s ear with the sound of her teasing laughter.

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 02/13/2009

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**Subject:** re: Consider this your Valentine’s Day gift

Need some help packing?

 

✉                                                                                                                                   **Date:** 02/14/2009

**To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**From:** mikeross@gmail.com

**Subject:** re: Consider this your Valentine’s Day gift 

I’m on to you! You’re just looking for an excuse to come to Italy.

~*~*~*~

**Donna says:**

Mike, you have to take him.

**MRoss says:**

why?

**Donna says:**

Because when he goes on vacation, I go vacation. So take him.

**MRoss says:**

only if I can consider it a favor

**Donna says:**

My favors are pretty pricey, Mike.

**MRoss says:**

I’d consider an additional two week vacation to be worth it.

**Donna says:**

True… How about this, throw in another pair of gloves and a scarf and you’ll have yourself a deal.

**MRoss says:**

*sigh* I just don’t know how I’ll manage but fine I’ll take him

**Donna says:**

Good man

**MRoss says:**

I have my moments… lol

~*~*~*~

✉                                                                                                                                   **Date:** 02/23/2009

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**Subject:** Fwd: HARVEY S NEW YORK 03APR09

 

✉                                                                                                                                    **Date:** 02/25/2009

**To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**From:** mikeross@gmail.com

**Subject:** re: Fwd: HARVEY S NEW YORK 03APR09

Rome? Harvey?

You’re making me come and pick you up at 7 in the morning!!? If I didn’t love you…jerk.

 

✉                                                                                                                                 **Date:** 02/25/2009

**To:** mikeross@gmail.com

**From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

**Subject:** re: Fwd: HARVEY S NEW YORK 03APR09

Yeah yeah yeah

Deal with it, Pooky.

 

 

Love you too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm throwing in a disclaimer about the PCS orders: unfortunately, they resemble Army ones more than Navy because I honestly don't see a whole lot of them through the course of my job. Also finding an example of them on the internet is like looking for a needle in a haystack. :/
> 
> So that being said, see you in two weeks!


	6. April 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, dear readers, for making you wait so long, but I hope you will forgive me when you see the word count on this chapter alone. After being so impatient to get to this chapter, it turned out to be one the hardest to write because I really wanted to do it justice. And I hope I did. 
> 
> With only one chapter left, I'm not entirely certain that I'll be posting it in the next two weeks, but hang in there and I'll try my damnedest to not leave you waiting too long.
> 
> Also, I'm going to apologize in advance for the Italian used in this chapter; it's a mixture of google-fu and google translate, which is probably not the best combination when it comes to writing a foreign language accurately. :/
> 
> Edit: I'd like to give a huge thanks to Elekiz for correcting my atrocious Italian. *hugs*

Barely holding back a yawn, Mike glanced at his watch as he collapsed on the nearest bench to await Harvey’s arrival. Six was way too early to be at the airport, especially when he had a king size bed calling his name back at the hotel. After confirming Harvey’s flight information, Mike had decided to book a hotel room from Friday night to Sunday morning, ensuring that he wouldn’t have to make the two and half hour drive in the early morning hours while giving Harvey the chance to sleep if he really wanted to.

Knowing that he’d have an hour or so of waiting before Harvey finally his appearance, Mike leaned back on the bench and stretched out, pulling out the same book he’d been trying to read of weeks. So between finalizing the majority of his case load and all the various appointments and meetings involved with PCSing, he failed in finding the time to actually finish the book.

“Never took you for a Stephen King fan,” Harvey remarked dryly, unwilling to hide his smirk when Mike jerked his head up and blinked owlishly at him.

It took a moment for Mike’s brain to catch up; yet when it finally did, he couldn’t help but give Harvey a quick glance over before settling on the dark shades covering Harvey’s eyes. “James Dean or Steve McQueen?” He quipped while raising a lone eyebrow at the lawyer’s sunglasses, which was unusual considering that sun had barely risen in the sky yet.

“Neither. Harvey Specter.”

Mike scoffed softly and rose from the bench, walking the short distance to where Harvey stood with his luggage in hand and then stopped, rocking back and forth as he stumbled over a simple, “hi.”

Quirking an eyebrow at the sailor’s awkward tone, Harvey reached a hand out and grabbed Mike’s wrist, walking his fingers across the smooth skin until he tangled their fingers together. “Hi yourself,” Harvey parroted back, waiting a beat before adding, “riveting conversation as always.”

“Shut up,” Mike groused even as he squeezed Harvey’s hand tightly like he was scared to let go. “Come on, car’s this way,” he urged, leading Harvey by the hand in the direction of the closest airport carpark.

As they walked through the airport, Mike keep seeking glances of Harvey, enjoying how comfortable his partner looked dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a blue button down shirt. If Mike ever had to make a choice between Manhattan Harvey and this Harvey, he’d choose this Harvey every single time because this Harvey was the one he had fallen in love with while in Nice.

However, it was only once they were closer to the rental car that Mike finally broke their silence. “So… how was your flight?”

Heaving a deep sigh, Harvey replied solemnly, “Crying baby, first time flyer, obnoxious douche who thought he was only passage on the plane.”

“In business class?” Mike questioned, his tone bordering on the disbelief at hearing there was a baby in what amounted to first class. “Ouch.”

Harvey’s nod of agreement quickly turned into one of mild confusion as they neared a silver Audi sedan. “Wait,” Harvey demanded, his gaze taking in the sight before him, “I thought you couldn’t drive.”

“Can’t and don’t are two different things,” Mike explained as he clicked a button on the key fob to open the trunk. “I don’t drive, usually; but that doesn’t mean Grammy didn’t teach me,” he continued, pressing the car keys into Harvey’s hand in exchange for the other man’s luggage.

“Ah,” Harvey drawled barely hiding his skepticism at hearing that Mike could drive. Fingering the keys in his hand, Harvey made his way to the driver’s side, already opening the door when Mike’s voice cut through the quiet carpark.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Cocking an eyebrow in Mike’s direction, Harvey leveled Mike with a look like he was shocked that Mike would even think of asking that question. “Driving…”

“No,” Mike laughed with a shake of his head. “I rented it, so I’m driving and besides you don’t even know where the hotel is.”

“I don’t trust your driving,” Harvey replied in a tone that remained Mike of a mildly petulant child.

“You’ve never seen my driving.”

Looking over the roof of the car at Mike, Harvey shrugged and stated simply, “Principle.”

“Get in the car,” Mike told him, glaring pointedly at Harvey until he did as he told, though not before delivering a parting remark of his own.

“If I die in a fiery ball of metal, it’s you that’s going to have to deal with Donna.”

Rolling his eyes, Mike fondly shook his head and tossed Harvey’s luggage into the trunk, not really caring about damaging the expensive bag, even if Harvey was anal about keeping his nice things nice. Once he had the luggage squared away, Mike slammed the trunk and walked to driver’s side, slipping inside where he found Harvey messing with the radio.

“Don’t touch that!”

With those words, Harvey shot Mike an incredible look even as he continued to play around with the radio stations. “You have terrible taste in music.” Deciding it best to leave that statement there, Mike threw the car into gear and pulled out of the parking space, directing the car towards their hotel.

~*~*~*~

Closing the hotel door behind him, Harvey treaded softly after Mike, toeing off his shoes as he went. While he hadn’t felt tired after initially landing, somewhere between the airport and the hotel an overwhelming urge to sleep had washed over Harvey, causing him to eye the duvet-covered bed with reverence.

“Stanco?” Mike asked while gazing expectedly at Harvey from where he stood, putting the other man’s luggage away in the closet.

Quirking an eye at Mike, Harvey leveled a look at his partner, unable to stop the smirk from forming on his lips. “That’s new,” he remarked as he walked forward, stopping just in front of Mike.

“Not really,” Mike told him with a shrug of his shoulders and a grin. “I took Italian in college, and it stuck… like everything else. I think was one the reasons why they considered me for Naples even though I was only a junior grade.”

“Hmm…,” Harvey drawled, wiggling his eyebrow in a goofy leer as he reached out and grabbed Mike, finally giving into the urge to pull him close, an urge he had forced himself to suppress the moment he’d laid eyes on Mike from across the arrival terminal. While they might have been miles away from Naples, Harvey knew how important Mike’s career was to him, so he had no desire in playing a part in ruining if he could help it.

Mike burst out laughing as Harvey reeled him in. “I know what you want.”

“Do you?”

“Hai una mente perversa,” Mike murmured, the words seeming to curl around his tongue and lips before rolling off in almost perfect Italian accent, an accent picked up from months of interacting with his landlady and her family.

“Yes to whatever you just said,” Harvey agreed, then adding questioningly, “What did you say?”

Unable to not laugh at Harvey’s eagerness, Mike shook his head and said, “Sei stupido.”

“That one I understand,” Harvey stated with slightly narrowed eyes; though there was a brightness in them that told Mike Harvey was enjoying their game as much as he was.

“Se lo dici tu…” Mike teased, watching as Harvey’s lips morphed into the semblance of a frown, yet the humor in his eyes was still very much present.

“I don’t like this game anymore, counselor.”

Tipping his chin up, Mike pecked Harvey on the lips in faux apology and purred a soft, “povero piccolo,” before allowing his face to twist into one of out and out wickedness.

Not one to give an inch, especially in the bedroom, Harvey’s grip tightened on Mike’s hips as he growled low in his throat and then proceeded to manhandle Mike onto the bed, causing him to bubble over with laughter as soon as they landed on the pile of rumpled bedsheets and pillows.

“Mi sei mancato,” Mike whispered, gazing into Harvey’s eyes while relishing the comforting weight of Harvey pressing him into the soft mattress.

“What did you say?” Harvey asked, matching Mike’s volume and pitch because he was unwilling to break whatever spell that had been cast upon them.

“I’ve missed you.”

Smiling fondly at his partner, Harvey leaned in and kissed him as he mumbled, “sap,” which earned him a scowl from Mike. Though at the sight of the sailor’s expression, Harvey brought his hand up and rubbed his thumb across Mike’s lip like he was attempting to wipe the pout away. “Don’t stop playing now, Mike. Teach me some Italian… the stuff you don’t find in the tourist books.”

While he might have rolled his eyes at Harvey, Mike decided to not fight the inevitable and said, “Sei una testa di cazzo.”

“Okay…” Harvey drawled as he stared down at Mike, clearly waiting for him to explain what he said.

“Dickhead,” Mike grinned. “You are a dickhead.”

“That’s funny cause—“ Harvey began, yet Mike was quick to cut him off with a well-placed hand on his cotch, cupping him through his worn jeans.

“Posso accarezzarlo?”

Mike couldn’t help but smile smugly as Harvey’s eyes widen briefly before turning into a heated glare, the exact reaction Mike was hoping for. “You wanna play dirty, huh?”

Instead of answering right away, Mike smiled and then paused, his lips forming into a leer as he purred, “Ti desidero, disperatamente.”

Despite not understanding the words, Harvey knew on some level that Mike had changed the game, turning it from one of light humor to a sexual one. So keeping that feeling at the front of his mind, Harvey gripped Mike’s hips and rolled, so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. “Tell me!”

“I want you, desperately.”

“More,” Harvey demanded heatedly, watching with a preserve satisfaction as he felt the tell-tale sign that his sailor was interested.

“Ti voglio scopare,” Mike sighed, before leaning in and whispering the translation against Harvey’s lips, “I wanna fuck you.”

Swallowing around the dryness in his throat, Harvey brought his hand to the front of Mike’s jeans and tugged at the button he found. “How do you say: take your clothes off?”

“Spogliati,” Mike replied and then tipped his head down, pressing his lips against the unshaven skin of Harvey’s jaw and throat.

With Mike’s focus solely on leaving biting kisses that sent shivers through Harvey’s body, Harvey decided to use Mike’s diversion to his advantage, mouthing the new word a couple of time before finally saying it out loud for Mike to hear.

“Spogliati,” he echoed with a slight hesitation in his voice before repeating it again; though this time in a clearer voice and without the hesitation, even if his accent and pronunciation was still as appalling as the first time he said it.

As soon as the word left Harvey’s mouth for the second time, Mike knew the time for teasing and coyness had passed, so pulling his lips away from Harvey’s skin, he proceeded to do exactly as Harvey had ordered, starting first his shirt and then his jeans, both of which he threw onto the floor.

Once down to just his boxers, Mike’s fingers itched to reach out and assist Harvey in removing his own clothe; instead, he chose to follow Harvey’s example by making him do all the work, while sitting back and enjoying the show. “Spogliati,” Mike demanded as he racked his eyes up and down Harvey’s prone form.

“You gotta work for it,” Harvey goaded, barely managing to keep a smirk off his lips. “I want a kiss!”

“Voglio un bacio,” Mike translated without sparing it much thought until he was already leaning in, happily giving into Harvey’s easy demand. As soon as his lips touched Harvey’s, Mike could feel the smirk hiding just behind his partner’s teeth, and it was then that Mike knew exactly what to do in order to throw Harvey off his game. “Ho pensato al tuo uccello tutto il giorno,” he breathed into Harvey’s mouth as he broke their kiss and brought his hand down to pop the button on Harvey’s jeans.

“You’re changing the rules, Mike,” Harvey chided though there was no heat in his voice, just in his eyes as he gazed into the sailor’s flushed face. “What did you say?”

Instead of translating like Harvey wanted, Mike simply shook his head and continued to focus on getting rid of Harvey’s jeans, so he could get to the prize inside. Once he had Harvey’s jeans open, Mike slipped his hands inside, wrapping them around Harvey’s ass and giving it a squeeze before finally shoving the material aside and pushing down, leaving it bunched around Harvey’s thighs.

“I take it all back,” Harvey groaned when Mike’s fingers danced across the fly of his boxers, pulling it apart and exposing the hard, heated flesh to cool air. “Continue changing the rules of the game, counselor. I don’t mind one bit, actually I prefer it.”

Mike grinned and then pressed his lips to Harvey’s, catching the other man’s bottom lip with his teeth and tugging, enjoying the sound of Harvey’s deep-seated growl as he did so. “Oddio se sei grosso!” Mike exclaimed as he wrapped his fingers around Harvey’s cock like he was seeing and feeling it for the first time.

Even though Harvey hadn’t a clue what Mike was saying, he couldn’t stop from rolling his eyes at the tone in Mike’s voice, which only caused the younger man to beam as he gripped Harvey’s shoulder with his free hand and pushed, rolling Harvey over onto his back before climbing on top. Once firmly planted on Harvey’s hips, Mike began to draw circles and random little patterns across Harvey’s pecs and nipples before lifting his hips and scooting back until his ass was on Harvey’s knees, giving him the space to lay down in order to take Harvey into his mouth.                                                                                                  

“Fammelo leccare dalle palle alla punta,” he breathed before licking Harvey’s cock from root to tip, smiling smugly when he felt Harvey’s thighs tense, no doubt a sure sign that he had just made Harvey’s toes curl. Turning his eyes up, Mike trained his eyes on Harvey’s face, watching as his partner’s eyes closed the moment he wrapped his lips around the engorged head and sucked.

Harvey let out a low moan and carded his fingers through Mike’s hair, pausing at the base of his skull to grip the short strands he found there. “God,” Harvey panted when he felt his cock slip further into Mike’s mouth and poked the back of his throat, “I’ve missed you.

Humming low in his throat, Mike grinned as much as he could around the hard flesh and then tipped his chin back, sucking the swollen head into his throat, swallowing deep… just the way Harvey liked. While Mike had never been a great fan of sucking cock, for Harvey he was willing to do it, if only as a way of apologizing for the terrible flight Harvey had been on.

Mike couldn’t be sure of how much time had passed; but just as he began to feel a strong ache in his jaw, Harvey’s grip tightened, turning into a sharp pull as he groaned a broken, “so close,” into the air. Taking that as a sign to pull away, Mike released Harvey’s cock with a loud pop and slithered up his partner’s flush and prone form, laying on top of him, so he could catch the man’s red bitten lips in a kiss of silent thanks. Mike knew that Harvey understood how much he hated to swallow, so it was a small concession that Harvey was willing to make if it meant he could still have what he enjoyed… at least, some of the time.

Bringing one hand up, Mike stroked the apple of Harvey’s cheek as he brought his other hand over and wrapped it around Harvey’s cock, using the mixture of spit and pre-cum left there as lubricate to help take Harvey over the edge. With a few flicks of his wrist, Mike watched as Harvey came a part in his hand, gasping and shaking as his orgasm ripped through his body. It was one sight that Mike would never get tired of seeing: the usually calm and collected Harvey Specter being reduced to a mumbling, shivering mess of debauchery.

As Harvey laid there and waited for his heart rate to slow, he turned his head to the side and pressed a kiss to the inside of Mike’s palm before licking the soft skin he found there. “Basta!” Mike exclaimed around bouts of laughter as he tried to pull his hand away; but Harvey wasn’t willing to let him go just yet because he quickly clasped Mike’s wrist, fighting against Mike’s attempts to pull away.

“No,” Harvey growled playfully around light nibbles and licks. “This is my vacation, Mike, so I’ll do what I want,” he reasoned, watching as Mike’s eyebrow arched momentarily and then settle, causing Harvey to level Mike with a suspicious glance before dismissing his own curiosity with a slight shake of his head, deciding that he was better off not asking what the genius’s brain was thinking.

Instead he reached over with his free hand, planning to give Mike the same kind of attention he had receive; however, Mike stopped him with a firm shake of his head as he grasped Harvey’s wondering hand with his own, twisting their fingers together into a lose clasp. “I’m good,” Mike said, speaking in English for this time in what seemed like hours to Harvey.

Nodding his head in unvoiced understanding, Harvey released the hand that had been holding Mike’s hostage and reached between them, tucking himself back inside his boxers before wiggling his legs, working his jeans further down his legs, so he could finally kick them to the floor. Once free of his restricting jeans, Harvey took his still free hand and laid it on Mike’s back, keeping the sailor in place as he rolled them over and onto their sides. “Sleep, Mike,” he ordered, lowering his voice into a barely there whisper at seeing how much trouble Mike was having keeping his eyes open.

Mike’s response to Harvey’s soft demand was a sleepy grin, one that quickly turned into a deep yawn right before Harvey’s eyes. With a fond shake of his head, Harvey tilted his head up and planted a kiss on his sailor’s forehead, relishing the fact he could breathe in the scent of Mike’s shampoo as he did so.

In a few short days, Mike would have them on the road and headed south to Naples, so he could finish out the few remaining weeks before making the move to Connecticut; and while, there wasn’t any doubt to who Mike would be returning home to every night, Harvey still had to share Mike with the Navy, and in much the same way as Mike had to share Harvey with Pearson Hardman while on leave. Thus, Harvey had every intention of using Rome to his advantage by taking the opportunity to simply be with Mike while being free from the distractions life tended to throw at them.

Pressing his lips against Mike’s forehead one last time, Harvey muttered a soft, “ti amo,” against the skin under his lips. Before leaving New York, Harvey had made certain to memorize the phrase because he had wanted to surprise Mike while possibly making him cry like the girl he was. Yet, it turned out that Mike had been the one full of surprises… not that Harvey minded all that much.

“Sei la mia anima gemella,” Mike answered sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes as he tucked his face against Harvey’s neck and finally allowed the sleep he hadn’t gotten the night before to claim him.

~*~*~*~

Casting a quick glance to the side, Mike couldn’t help the eye roll that happened at seeing Harvey’s death grip on the _oh shit_ bar. His driving might have been less than ideal, but it wasn’t so bad at to warrant that much drama.

“My driving isn’t that bad,” Mike whined, which caused Harvey to give him his patented ‘are you kidding me’ look.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Harvey told him, even as he lessened his grip on the door bar. 

Mike scoffed at Harvey’s remark, letting the subject of his driving ability drop. Grammy had done her best to teach Mike to drive responsibly; but it seemed that every time she tried to teach him the correct way, Trevor had overwritten it with the wrong way, which had led to more than one lecture from his Grammy concerning his friendship with Trevor. A friendship that ended not long after Mike almost sold a math test to the dean’s daughter. Grammy had always told him that listening to Trevor’s dumb ideas would get him in trouble, yet it wasn’t until the risk of expulsion looming that Mike realized maybe it was time to get his shit together and let Trevor go. So after years of ignoring Grammy’s wisdom-filled words, Mike had cut all ties with his oldest friend and spent his last two years at Columbia figuring out his life goal… a goal that somehow came to include joining the Navy’s JAG Corps after law school.

Sensing that Mike had become lost in his thoughts, Harvey reached over and touched the sailor’s hand that was resting on the gearshift, squeezing it gently. Even though he was trying to give comfort, Harvey being Harvey wouldn’t stop a smirk from forming at watching as Mike’s head jerk sideways, obviously startled by Harvey’s hand grab.

“Don’t do that,” Mike whined, not caring that he sounded like a child. It was bad enough that Harvey’s _suggestions_ on his driving were enough to stress Mike out, he didn’t need any added distractions from him causing an accident.

“Do what?”

“Never mind,” Mike replied, sparing Harvey a brief side-eye as he flicked the indicator signal and then made a left hand turn onto Signora DiMare’s driveway, passing under the enclosed breezeway before taking an immediate right and stopping just inside the walled courtyard.

“I thought you said it was old,” Harvey remarked as he peered through the passenger-side window at the house’s pale yellow stucco façade. The house looked nothing like Harvey had originally imagined; instead of a narrow house with two equally narrow houses on either side, her home appeared to be a three story country house with an enclosed, arched breezeway, which served as the entrance into a large walled garden.

Harvey’s remarked caused Mike’s hand to still on the ignition while his brain caught up with his partner’s comment. “Oh my god!” Mike exclaimed, turning his head to gape at Harvey. “You were imagining a shack.”

“You said it was old,” Harvey argued, failing to stop a whine from entering his tone.

“It is,” Mike asserted, turning off the car. “Signora DiMare… Amalia says it was built sometime in the late 1700s and has been in her family ever since.”

“So it’s her family’s home and not her husband’s?” Harvey asked, partly out of curiosity and partly wanting clarification for what Mike was telling him. If the inside of the property was an impressive as the outside, then Signora DiMare’s home must have been worth a couple of million easy.

“Yeah,” Mike said as he opened the car door and climbed out, leaning against the roof until Harvey joined him in under the noon day sun. “When her mother died, Amalia and her family came to live in the house with her father, and after he died, he left the house to her, and so… she stayed.”

With a nod, Harvey tapped the roof the car and then walked around to the trunk, waiting for Mike to open it so he could retrieve his bags. It as he waited that Harvey decided to take a moment and look around the garden, noticing the care and love that Signora DiMare gave it. Just beyond the small parking area, the walled property became an idyllic oasis with weathered stones that cut intricate paths through potted flowers and bushes of all shapes, sizes, and colors before diverging to surround a simple, yet elegant stoned fountain topped with a pair of cherubs.

“Has she ever thought of selling it?” Harvey asked off-handedly while glancing at Mike. “It’s just a question, Mike. I’m not going to try and rob your landlady of her home,” he added for good measure after seeing Mike stare blankly in his direction.

Mike pursed his lips and then shook his head, deciding not to engage Harvey in this particular conversation. “My apartment is around this way,” Mike told him, pointing to the stone path that lead around the side of the house and to an exterior recess created by Mike’s apartment and what Harvey assumed to be the home’s main entrance.

“Where’s the stairs go?” Harvey asked when they finally stopped in front of Mike’s door. Looking up from his bag—where he’d been fishing for his keys—Mike glanced briefly at the stairs in question and said, “To an upstairs sitting room.”

“Ah,” Harvey hummed, quickly dismissing his curiosity in favor of following Mike into his apartment. Unlike Signora DiMare’s house, Mike’s apartment was almost exactly as Harvey had imagined. However instead of a cramped studio, Harvey spotted a spiral staircase in the far corner, which he reasoned probably led to spacious bedroom and bath. “It came furnished, right?” Harvey asked, though he already knew the answer even as he eye wandered over the sparse furniture inhabiting the open concept first floor.

“Yeah,” Mike replied as he grabbed Harvey’s bag with every intention of showing his partner upstairs, so he could unpack a little before they headed out for dinner. Yet, it wasn’t until they were upstairs that Harvey showed Mike that he had something different in mind for the evening.

Once the luggage was out of Mike’s hands and on the floor, Harvey reached out and reeled the sailor in, pressing a kiss to upturn lips before dancing the younger man backwards and down onto the bed. “Let’s christen this bed, sailor,” he growled, lips firmly pressed against Mike’s.

Thumping his head against the mattress, Mike let out a string of boisterous laughs as he weakly tried to evade Harvey’s probing lips before finally giving in and accepting his partner’s kisses. “What if I say no?”

“Oh, I don’t see that happening,” Harvey remarked smugly, his hand already stroking the length of Mike’s thigh, enjoying the feel of tone muscles under his fingertips. Watching Mike’s hand grip the gearstick as he coasted down the A1 had become a lesson in patience for the Manhattan shark, if only because he’d been unable to touch Mike had much as he wanted out of fear of causing an accident. Though on some level, the idea of giving Mike head as he drove did have a certain type of merit to it.

“Uh huh,” Mike murmured distractedly as Harvey’s hand moved up his thigh and then slipped under his polo shirt, fingering the sailor’s warm skin.

With an eyebrow quirked, Harvey leaned down and mouthed along Mike’s jaw and throat, breathing in the scent of his partner. “You with me, sailor?” Harvey breathed into Mike’s ear, biting back a grin when he felt shivers course through the body laying beneath him.

“Always,” Mike whispered before turning his head and pressing a kiss to the side of Harvey’s mouth, feeling as the lips beneath his twitched slightly into a barely there smile. Keeping his lips on Harvey’s, Mike slowly brought his hand up and stroked his thumb across Harvey’s cheek, and added quietly, “Facciamo l'amore.”

While he didn’t understand the words Mike had spoken, Harvey could sense what was being asked of him simply from Mike’s touch and the tone in his voice. So with a firm kiss to Mike’s lips, Harvey pulled away and got to work on Mike’s clothes, pulling and tugging at the offending material until there nothing standing between him and Mike’s creamy skin.

It was only after Mike’s clothes were gone that Harvey finally started pulling his own off, gazing into Mike’s hooded, lust-filled eyes as he did so; and as soon as the last article of clothing hit the floor, Mike’s hands shot up and grabbed for Harvey, yanking at him until he finally got the other man exactly where he wanted him… on top of him with his weight pressing Mike into mattress as he ran hands and lips over his partner’s skin, teasing breathy gasps and low moans from the younger man until they were both left spent, curled around each other under the soft sheets of Mike’s bed.

“Dinner?” Mike asked sleepily against Harvey’s sweat damp skin, unwilling to lift his head as he spoke, if only because it took more energy than he cared to use.

Rolling his eyes at Mike’s question, Harvey dragged his fingertips up and down Mike’s spine in a languid petting motion as he mumbled an equally drowsy, “sleep, Mike,” into the sailor’s tousled hair. However instead of the argument he expected to hear, Harvey felt the change in Mike’s breathing as his partner slipped further into slumber, which seemed to have an unintended effect on Harvey as he closed his eyes, joining Mike in sleep.

 ~*~*~*~

_Day 3_

After checking the time on his watch, Mike began to slowly creep up the spiral staircase with his breakfast haul clutched firmly in his hands… not that he was expecting Harvey to be awake yet. When he had rolled out of bed this morning for his daily run—after managing to extract himself from Harvey’s embrace, Mike had done so with great reluctance… reluctance that had nothing to do with leaving the warmth of his bed and everything to do with Harvey shaped lump in it.

Once at the top of the stairs, Mike smiled softly as he took in the sight of Harvey sprawled across his bed, dead to the world and unaware that the sheets had slipped even further off his hips, exposing his bare ass to the empty room. A sight that seemed to compel Mike’s feet forward and over to the bed, where he gently set his loot down on the bedside table before finally leaning down to gently bite, lick, and suck on the toned globes, savoring the taste of his partner’s skin.

“Mike…” Harvey whined as he tried to wiggle away from Mike, though he only managed to kick the tangled sheets off his legs before giving up in disgust, deciding that it was easier to flip over onto his back, even if it meant having to contend with the predawn light pouring through the large picture windows that surrounded the room on three sides.

Unable to stop a pout from forming on his lips, Harvey glared sleepily at Mike before he reached out, intending to pull Mike into bed with him; yet the sailor was having none of. With feet firmly planted, Mike leaned back and said, “I can’t, Harvey. I’m all sweaty and I have to be at work in an hour.”

“Then you shouldn’t have started something you had no intention of finishing,” Harvey groused when he let go of Mike, watching as the younger man stumbled backwards, obviously not expecting Harvey to released him so soon.

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation, Mike grabbed one of the cappuccinos off the bedside table and handed it to Harvey, who took it with a crooked smile on his lips. “There’s a couple sfogliatelle in the box,” Mike told him, gesturing to the box in question, though when he saw Harvey’s perplexed look, he quickly added, “it’s a kind of Italian pastry. I got almond paste and orange ricotta… you can have whichever, I’m not picky.”

“How many calories are in it?” Harvey asked, peering inside the box at the shell-shaped pastries dusted with what appeared to be powdered sugar.

“And on that note, I’m going to shower,” Mike stated as he retreated into the bathroom, leaving Harvey to his breakfast.

~*~*~*~

_Day 4_

“Have you moved since I left you?” 

Tearing his eyes away from his laptop screen, Harvey gazed at Mike and then around the room, almost like he was checking to see if he was still seated in the same room that Mike had left him in this morning. 

“Well I might have eaten and taken a piss at noon, but other than that… I’ll have to say no,” Harvey supplied, knowing just from Mike’s tone that he hadn’t been expecting an actual response to his question.

With a sigh born from a long day of listening to enlisted and officers alike seek legal advice ranging from the mundane to the are-you-really-that-dumb, Mike dropped his leather satchel by the door and crossed the small living room, stopping only long enough to remove his shoes before collapsing on the couch, tucking his body close to Harvey’s.

“Long day?” Harvey mused as he set his laptop aside, so he could give Mike his full attention, just like Mike had done every time he had come home from a shitty day at the office.

Mike hummed low in his throat and said, “People are dumb.”

“Yup,” Harvey agreed while he wrapped his arm around Mike’s shoulders, pulling the sailor even closer into the warmth of his body. “Dinner later?”

“Uh huh,” Mike murmured before the sound of laughter caused him to abruptly pulled away to get a good look at what Harvey was watching on his TV. “Are you watching Friends? In Italian?”

“Hey,” Harvey interjected, clearly put off by Mike’s scandalized tone, “it’s not like there are a lot of options.”

“Sure…,” Mike drawled, “likely story,” which caused the scowl on Harvey’s face to deepen; however, as soon as he saw it, Mike brought his hand up and rubbed his fingertips across the pouty lips, attempting to wipe the frown from his partner’s mouth.

As Mike’s fingers brushed against Harvey’s lips a second time, Harvey’s tongue darted out and licked his thumb, lavishing it with attention before Mike pulled away to stroke it along Harvey’s cheek. “Ass,” Harvey muttered while leaning for a kiss.

“That’s funny, cause you—“ Mike began right before Harvey’s mouth settled over his, effectively drowning out the rest of his words.

~*~*~*~

_Day 6_

After pushing the box full of books into the corner with his toe, Harvey spun on his heel and looked around Mike’s bedroom, trying to determine what he should pack next. With all of Mike’s books packed and ready to go, there wasn’t a lot left for Harvey to do other than to clean out Mike’s closet by throwing out some of his more questionable choices of clothes. Not that Harvey didn’t enjoy seeing Mike in a pair of holey jeans that clung just this side of indecent to his ass, though he wasn’t stupid enough to admit it to Mike…he did have a reputation to uphold.

Harvey sighed as he sat down at Mike’s desk and reached for the landline, dialing Mike’s office phone and drumming his fingers against the oak wood while he waited for the call to connect.

“Lieutenant Ross speaking,” Mike answered. His tone was clipped and unlike anything Harvey had heard coming from his partner’s mouth. Considering they’d never spoken over the phone while Mike was at work, Harvey wasn’t too surprised by Mike’s brisk tone.

Leaning back in his chair, Harvey breathed into the phone and then with a husky voice asked, “What are you wearing, sailor?”

“You think you’re funny, but you’re really not,” Mike deadpanned.

“Come on, it was a little funny.”

Mike’s snort echoed over the connection. “Maybe when you were high school.”

“Are you referencing my age?” Harvey countered, narrowing his eyes darkly at Mike’s suggestion that he was old.

“May-be,” Mike teased, the sound of his laughter unmistakable to Harvey through the line.

With a fond eye roll, Harvey turned his chair around and stared at the picture hanging above Mike’s bed. “So Mike,” Harvey began, intentionally changing the subject, “what’s with the panda?”

“Don’t knock the panda.”

“I’m not,” Harvey protested, “I just wanna know where the baby panda came from?”

“Well, when a mama panda and a daddy panda love—“ Mike started to explain, yet Harvey cut him off before he could even finish his statement.

“I’m hanging up know,” Harvey told him and then did just that, though not before hearing the laughing calls of his name as he did so.

~*~*~*~

_Day 7_

**Donna says:**

How’s it going?

**Donna says:**

Is he behaving?

**MRoss says:**

when have you known Harvey to behave…

**Donna says:**

True. I’m taking Edith out for brunch tomorrow.

**MRoss says:**

Thanks Donna.

**Donna says:**

All part of the service :)

**Donna says:**

And it’s a great way to get dirt on you and Harvey

**MRoss says:**

uh huh

**MRoss says:**

Soooo hows your vacation going?

**Donna says:**

I’m getting lots of filing done

**MRoss says:**

I’m sure you are

**Donna says:**

Michael Ross, are you doubting my commitment to my job

**MRoss says:**

not if I value my life, I’m not

**Donna says:**

Smart man

**MRoss says:**

Grammy didn’t raise a fool

~*~*~*~

_Day 8_

“Where are we going?”

Pushing his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, Harvey gazed at Mike while they waited to cross the street; yet instead of a reply, Mike only grinned and then squeezed his hand, leading him across the street as soon as the light changed.

As they left the apartment this morning, Mike had been extremely tight-lipped as to their final destination, even going as far to take the bus timetable from Harvey’s hand soon after boarding the bus. While the lawyer would’ve normally bitched over having to take public transportation, Harvey decided to let it go and just enjoy the day with Mike, getting to know the city his sailor had called home for almost two years.

“Mike…” Mike squeezed Harvey’s hand again and continued on, navigating his way through the maze of Napoli streets. If Harvey didn’t know better, he might have thought they were lost; but considering Mike’s eidetic memory, there was no way they’d ever become truly lost in Naples.

After a few more turns, Mike finally stopped a narrow one-way street that had an ornate building with stone stairs, Grecian statues, and columns on one side and an orange colored building with monk link figures bracketing what Harvey assumed to be the front door.

“We’re here,” Mike announced while throwing out his arm in the direction of the orange building, which would not have been Harvey’s choice between the two buildings.

“Here, where?”

“San Lorenzo Maggiore,” Mike replied as he walked forward, closer to the orange colored building. “It’s a late 13th century church.”

“You brought me to a church…”

Mike moved his head side to side and hummed, “Not exactly. I brought you to see what’s under the church.” Biting his lip, Mike studied Harvey’s skeptical look for a brief moment before knocking his shoulder against his partners and wheedled, “Come on, it’ll be fun and if you behave, I’ll take you to Di Matteo down the street. Apparently, Clinton ate there on a trip to Naples.”

“Is that supposed to a glowing endorsement?” Harvey wondered while still gazing at the younger man skeptically.

“Could be,” Mike grinned, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet before tugging shapely on Harvey’s hand, propelling the lawyer closer to where Mike was standing. “If you hate it, then I’ll make it up to you.”

“And if I actually find I like it?”

“Then I’m sure you can think of a way to thank me,” Mike winked. “Either way, it’s a win-win for all parties involved.”

With a quick glance to the left and the right, Harvey leaned down and stole a brief kiss from his partner’s lips. “I love it when you speak lawyer.”

“I know you do,” Mike admitted as he squeezed Harvey’s hand. “Now come on. Di Matteo has a cult following and if we want to eat lunch before dinner, we gotta get this show on the road.”

“Task master,” Harvey grumbled, even as he allowed Mike to pull him through the morning crowd of tourists and into the unsuspecting looking church.

~*~*~*~

_Day 10_

Mike could barely keep his grumbling to a minimum as he pushed the files on his desk around. He needed to leave the house in the next 10 minutes, or he’d be late for work and he really didn’t want to be late. Especially considering that he only have a little over a week left in Naples before he was Connecticut bound. However, there was no way Mike was leaving the house without that damn card because otherwise, he wasn’t going to be doing a whole lot of work today.

Dropping the folders in hands on the desk, Mike turned and looked at the slumbering man in his bed, silently debating whether or not to wake him. When he had gone to bed the night before, the card had still been in the reader, but sometime between then and waking up, it had disappeared and Mike knew that he hadn’t gotten out of bed. Although now that he thought about it, Mike vaguely recalled Harvey leaving the bed and shuffling to the bathroom.

“Where is it?” Mike demanded, not bothering to keep his voice down, while he shook Harvey awake. He didn’t have time for this bullshit.

With a soft groan, Harvey rolled onto his side and blinked owlishly at Mike, seemingly waiting for his brain to catch up with what Mike was asking. “What?”

“Where is my CAC?”

“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” Harvey replied evenly, managing to give nothing away in his tone or his face, which seemed to only frustrate Mike even more.

Mike titled his head and stared at the ceiling, counting mentally to ten before looking down at Harvey again, who was now sitting instead of laying on the bed. “My common access card,” Mike supplied, “it’s the size and shape of a credit card, has my picture along with my branch of service on the front, and a bunch of numbers on the back.”

“Got nothing.”

“Oh god, Harvey,” Mike sighed. “Don’t do this. I’m sorry I can’t stay home with you, but I have to go to work. So please just hand the damn thing over.”

“Mike—“

“Don’t try and guilt trip me,” Mike interjected sharply. “I don’t bitch or try to sabotage your job when I’m on leave in New York, so don’t do this Harvey. I need to get to work and I need that card.”

Heaving a sigh of his own, Harvey leaned over and grabbed his book off the nightstand, flipping it open to the middle, so Mike could see his card tucked away inside. With one hand Mike reached out and grabbed the card while bringing his other up and cupping Harvey’s jaw, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his partner’s lips. “Thank you,” Mike murmured against Harvey’s upturn mouth. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try to leave early today.”

“You don’t have too,” Harvey told him. Mike smiled and kissed him again, lingering a little longer than he should before finally pulling away and leaving Harvey in his bed. If he was lucky, he just might be able to catch the bus that would drop him off not far too from base.

~*~*~*~

_Day 13_

After closing his laptop, Mike leaned back in his desk chair and raised his arms, stretching the kinks of his shoulders before looking at Harvey. “All packed?”

“Almost,” Harvey confirmed, “just need to shove Donna’s stuff in the bottom.”

“Make sure you don’t crush it or it’ll be my head,” Mike warned gravely.

With an eye roll, Harvey closed his suitcase and then set it on the floor by Mike’s closet before giving his partner a bored look. “Uh huh.”

Climbing to his feet, Mike turned and stuck his tongue out at Harvey before walking over to where he stood, stopping an inch or two from his shoulder. And not to be out done by Mike’s childish behavior, Harvey puckered his lips and began making kissy noises.

“Jerk,” Mike grumbled, knocking his shoulder against Harvey’s, who simply winked and then tackled Mike, sending them both sprawling across the bed. Mike groaned under the unexpected weight of Harvey’s body. “God, you’re heavy.”

“Take it back,” Harvey demanded as he pinched Mike’s flank, smirking at the sound of his _oh so manly_ squeak.

“Remind me again, why I love you?”

“I happen to be amazing in the sack,” Harvey smirked as he gazed down into Mike’s upturned face.

Mike tapped his chin, pretending to think for a moment before dismissing it. “No, that’s not it.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Harvey murmured while leaning in to press a kiss to Mike’s lips.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Mike agreed while fluttering his eyelashes in a style reminiscent of a Disney princess.

“Alright Snow White,” Harvey grumbled with an eye roll, “time for bed. I don’t want you to crash the car from lack of sleep.”

Mike gave a put upon sigh and asked, “Will you ever trust my driving?”

“Probably not.”

Mike groaned and thumped his head against the mattress. “I want a new boyfriend.”

“Tough shit, pooky. If you leave me than Donna will revolt,” Harvey replied, then at seeing Mike’s mild confusion added, “She claims I’m less of an asshole since meeting you.”

“Huh…”

“What?” Harvey wandered, curiosity perked by the thought-provoking expression on Mike’s face.

“I can’t say the same,” Mike remarked. “You’re still the same jerk I met in that bar.”

“If I’m such a jerk, then why do you stay?”

“Stockholm Syndrome,” Mike replied flippantly, following it with a huge grin.

Digging his fingers into Mike’s side, Harvey began to tickle the sailor, sending him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “Stockholm, my ass.”

“Uncle, uncle,” Mike gasped between laughs. “Please stop.”

“You brought this on yourself,” Harvey teased and continued to run his fingers up and down Mike’s side, ignoring the sailor’s pleas for mercy.

“I take it all back,” Mike panted.

“Uh huh.”

“I swear!”

With those words, Harvey released Mike and leveled his best disapproving glare. “Didn’t Grammy teach you not to swear?”

“If she did, I wasn’t listening very hard.”

“Sounds about right for you.”

Mike reached up and punched Harvey in the shoulder before rolling over, giving his back to Harvey. While most would’ve taken Mike’s action as a sign of dismissal, Harvey knew different and saw them for what they were… Mike’s silent way of asking to be held. So turning on his side, Harvey curled around his partner’s back and then threw his arm across Mike’s stomach, pulling him close while tucking Mike’s head under this chin.

“Just a few more days,” Harvey muttered before leaning over to shut off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Mike took a deep breath and murmured a soft, “yeah,” and then closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come.  

~*~*~*~

_Day 14_

“Were you going to tell me about your plane ticket?” Harvey asked as he pushed his sunglasses back and looked at Mike, who was standing next to him in the security checkpoint line.

Mike shrugged and rocked back on his heels. “What’s $50 if I get to see you off?”

“So where are you going?”

“Marseille, apparently,” Mike said while looking at the ticket in his hand. A couple of days ago, he had made the insane decision to purchase the cheapest airplane ticket he could find out of terminal 3, just so he could walk with Harvey to his gate.

Harvey hummed thoughtfully and then said, “Beautiful weather, you could do worst.”

“I’m not going to Marseille, Harvey. The movers are scheduled to be Monday afternoon,” Mike replied, “and besides, it’s a one way ticket… unless I’ve planned on taking the train back to Naples.”

“Could be an interesting adventure?”

“I’m not going to Marseille,” Mike repeated before walking towards the security lane the ADR person was motioning him to.

“Will see,” Harvey teased as he followed behind Mike, already tugging his belt off.

With a shake of his head, Mike rolled his eyes and slipped off his shoes, setting them on the plastic tub along with his keys and wallet. Unlike Harvey, Mike hadn’t wore a belt because he didn’t want the added hassle of having to put it back on after security. Passing through the scanner, Mike held his arms out to the side and then waited patiently as airport security ran the wand over his body, checking for any undetected stray pieces of metal before motioning Mike to retrieve his things from the plastic tub. With security through with him, Mike moved off to the side to wait for Harvey to finish.

Once through security, Mike trailed behind Harvey through the concourse as he turned his phone back on to check for missed texts or calls. Donna was supposed to call regarding his Monday morning meeting and Harvey didn’t want to incur her wrath. “Any news?” Mike asked, lengthening his stride so he could walk shoulder to shoulder with his partner.

“Not from her,” Harvey replied, “Jessica left a message though.”

“What did she say?”

Harvey frowned. “Ask how my _vacation_ was going and then threatened me with pro bono cases for the next decade if I ever left her for more than a week with Louis.”

“Let me guess,” Mike hummed, “she said this her best scathing tone.”

“How’d you guess, pooky,” Harvey deadpanned, obviously unhappy with the voicemail left by Pearson Hardman’s managing partner.

Mike grinned and then reached out, touching Harvey’s free hand and giving a small squeeze before releasing it. “I can go home,” Mike joked while flinging his hand in the direction of the security checkpoints. “I don’t have to be here.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harvey grumbled as he grabbed Mike’s hand and not letting go. Harvey didn’t give a damn about what anybody thought; he only had a couple of more hours with his partner, so he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted with what time he had left.

“Do you want anything?” Mike asked, once they were closer to Harvey’s gate.

“Do you want something?” Harvey countered, knowing his partner long enough to know what Mike was doing. Mike had a bad habit of not saying what he wanted, which meant he resulted to asking leading questions in order to get his point across. It had the tendency to drive Harvey insane while still managing to endure the sailor to him.

Mike turned his head, shooting Harvey a cheeky grin, and then tugged on his hand, leading him into the eatery that had caught his eye.

~*~*~*~

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Just landed

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Call when I get home?

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

yeah I’ll be awake

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Ray picking you up?

**Harvey (718) 279-5914**

Already waiting

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

oaky

~*~*~*~ 

✉                                                                                                                                                               **Date:** 04/19/2009

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Look Mom, I have a living room

and a bedroom without a bed

 

~*~*~*~

“Donna says to behave.”

Scowling into the phone’s mouthpiece, Harvey managed to keep the urge to hang at bay… barely. “And what have I done now that warrants you and my executive assistant ganging up on me?”

“According to Donna, Staff Appreciation Week is a big deal at your firm and you are refusing to participate with the rest of the lawyers.”

Harvey continued to frown into his phone line and retorted, “I appreciate people.”

“No,” Mike drawled with an eye roll, even though Harvey couldn’t see it. “You appreciate Donna.”

“Semantics.”

Mike rolled his eyes again and sighed. “How about the rest of the professional staff that you growl at and make cry?”

“Well, if they weren’t so—“

“Don’t finish that sentence, Harvey,” Mike interjected forcibly. “The way Donna tells it, you’re like a bear with a sore paw.”

“You need to stop talking to Donna,” Harvey replied while rubbing the bridge of his nose and avoiding Donna’s pointed looks through his glass door.

“How else am I supposed to know when you aren’t behaving?”

“Blind trust,” Harvey quipped.

With a laugh, Mike asked, “Does this mean that you’re secretly a cuddly teddy bear?”

“Only with you,” Harvey affirmed, “and only on Sundays.”

Biting down his own witty remark, Mike steered the conversation back to their original topic. “I’ll make you a deal, Harvey, if you play nice for the rest of the week, I’ll drive down Friday night and stay the weekend.”

“Did you buy a car?”

“Not yet, but I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon to see one,” Mike told him.

Harvey nodded and asked, “Make and model?”

“Oh no,” Mike chuckled. “I’m not telling you because you’ll tell me I’m wrong and should buy x type of car. So I’m going to stop your train of thought right there.”

“Well you’re no fun, pooky,” Harvey grumbled.

Mike hummed thoughtfully. “I have my moments. Now go play nice because Donna scares me.”

“Yes, pooky,” Harvey agreed, hanging up the phone before he could hear Mike breathy sigh come across the phone’s connection.

~*~*~*~

Muttering under his breath, Mike opened and closed drawers as he took inventory of all the items the office’s previous occupant had left behind; items that usually boiled down to an assorted mess of office supplies and maybe a missed drawing or two done by a grade school kid.

“Jones was a dick,” an unmistakable voice commented, “but his daughter was a real cutie.”

Mike shook his head and snorted in mirth before lifting his head to lay his eyes on the one person, who at one time had known him better than Harvey. “You don’t call, you don’t write. I thought we were friends, Vautrain?”

“The same could be said about you, Ross,” Alex Vautrain retorted, his pearly white smile a stark contrast to his skin tone. “Where’ve you been hiding?”

“Naples. You?”

Vautrain let out a low whistle as he walked further into the room, dropping into an empty chair that was in front of Mike’s equally empty desk. “Pensacola.”

“Charlotte must have liked that,” Mike observed, though the perplexed look on Vautrain’s face caused Mike to add, “because her family’s in Mobile, right?”

“How do you remember shit like that?” Lifting his hand, Mike tapped his temple and grinned. “Of course, I forgot,” Vautrain griped with an eye roll.

“And I don’t,” Mike smirked.

Vautrain laughed in spite of himself and shook his head. “Where are you staying?”

“Trident Park Townhomes,” Mike supplied.

“We lived there for about six months before moving into a rental house,” Vautrain stated. “How do you like it so far?”

“I just moved in on Tuesday,” Mike replied, “if you can call two pieces of luggage and no furniture to speak of, moving in.”

“That bad,” Vautrain whistled, sounding just a tiny bit scandalized by Mike’s lack of furniture. “Have you been to fleet and family support center, yet?”

Mike shrugged. “It’s on the list, just not a high priority at the moment.”

“Then it’s settled, you are coming home with me. Charlotte will kick my ass if she finds out that you’ve been sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag.”

“I never said anything about a sleeping bag,” Mike argued, a little put off that his friend thought so little of his ability to take care of himself. Really, you spend ten weeks sharing an apartment with a guy in Newport and he thinks he has the right to judge you.

“It was implied.”

Mike frowned and then with a shake of his head, finally asked, “When did you arrived?”

“Nine months ago,” Vautrain replied, adding, “Charlotte hates the winter, but loves our house. So it’s a compromise.”

Chuckling low in his throat, Mike asked, “Any kids yet?”

“Not yet, Charlotte’s not in too much a rush and I’m not sure I’m ready. My mother’s ready, but I’m not,” Vautrain answered, causing Mike to laugh again. “What about you? Anyone in your life?”

“Besides my grandmother? No,” Mike retorted, ignoring the guilt tugging at his heart. He hated lying about his relationship with Harvey, and it never seemed to get any easier. If anything, it seemed to hurt more every time he denied their relationship. 

Vautrain sighed and leaned forward, staring straight into Mike’s face as he said, “A piece of advice, my friend, don’t let Charlotte hear you say that. She’s got this cousin that she’s been trying to set up with a _nice boy_ for the longest time, and I wouldn’t wish that woman on my most hated enemy.”

“What is she… the Bride of Frankenstein?”

“Your mind is a scary place, my friend,” Vautrain laughed and then took a quick glance of his watch. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Mike replied, already opening the top desk drawer to retrieve his wallet from where he had stashed it after getting to his office. As soon as he’d arrived on base, he had been subjected to a series of meetings and briefings before finally being released for the day to settle in.

“Then let’s go,” Vautrain told him, leading the way from Mike’s office and through the cluster of desks that were arranged in a series of rows to create the office’s bullpen.

~*~*~*~

✉                                                                                                                                                            **Date:** 04/24/2009

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Partying like it’s 1999!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Italian to English Translations:**  
>  _Stanco?_ : Tired  
>  _Hai una mente perversa._ : You have a dirty mind.  
>  _Sei stupido._ : You're stupid.  
>  _Se lo dici tu_ : If you say so  
>  _Povero piccolo_ : Poor baby  
>  _Mi sei mancato_ : I've missed you  
>  _Posso accarezzarlo?_ : Can I pet it?  
>  _Ho pensato al tuo uccello tutto il giorno._ : I've been thinking about your cock all day.  
>  _Oddio se sei grosso!_ : Oh god, you're big!  
>  _Fammelo leccare dalle palle alla punta._ : Let me lick it from balls to the top.  
>  _Ti amo._ : I love you.  
>  _Sei la mia anima gemella._ : You're my soulmate.  
>  _Facciamo l'amore._ : Make love to me.


	7. May 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> I haven't forgotten you or this final chapter, but unfortunately RL got in the way. However after many weeks (more weeks than I cared for), I finally finished it. I do hope that you'll enjoy this and stick around for the next part of this series that I should hopefully start posting before the end of the summer.
> 
> As always, I love kind words and bits of praise; yet feel free to drop a line or two of constructive criticism.
> 
> Cheers!

“Alright, Ross,” Charlotte leveled, unable to hide her smile behind the rim of her wine glass. “How is it that you’re still single?”

Lowering his fork, Mike looked straight at Vautrain, who merely returned the look with a shrug and a grin. He had been married to Charlotte for almost six years, so he was well-versed in choosing his battles, and stopping Charlotte’s interrogation of Mike’s love life was one that he wanted no part in it.

“Because I’m secretly a terrible person with a fondness for drowning kittens,” Mike deadpanned slowly, causing Charlotte to narrow her eyes and glare at him, right before socking him in the shoulder.

“That’s not even remotely funny.”

Bringing his hand up, Mike rubbed his injured shoulder while making a wounded face at Charlotte. Though all it managed to do was make her roll her eyes and bring her index finger up, so she could mock him by following the path of a lone imaginary tear as it fell from the corner of her eye.

“Vautrain, your wife is evil.”

Charlotte's grin stretched across her freckled face as she took a sip of her wine. “Why do you think he married me,” she quipped, effectively beating Vautrain to the punch.

“Pretty much,” he agreed with a shrug before focusing on the sirloin steak in front of him again. Dinner with Charlotte and Mike always seemed to turn into battle of wills that Vautrain found himself not minding so much. While Charlotte was generally on friendly terms with some of the other JAG spouses, she had a biting humor that more times than not was a bit off putting.

“Why am I friends with you people?” Mike grumbled and then took a sip of his beer, glaring half-heartedly across the table at Vautrain and gleefully smiling Charlotte.

“Because you have nobody else,” Charlotte shot back, though the look of remorse on her face showed she regretted her words as soon as she said them. “I’m so sorry, that came out wrong.”

Mike shrugged off her remark and said, “It’s fine cause you’re right. Alex and you are the only real friends I have besides one or two I have in New York.”

“Speaking of New York,” Charlotte drawled, her face taking a slightly devilish quality, “my cousin will be in New York next weekend for a work thing and I know that generally you go down there every other week. So I was wondering if you’d be willing to take her out to dinner one night and kind of show her the city. It’ll be her first trip and everything.”

As Charlotte spoke, Mike watched as Vautrain’s eyes became bigger and a look of horror settled across his face. Vautrain had warned Mike that Charlotte would probably try and set them up; yet, he hadn’t expected her to spring it on him so soon. He had only been in New London a little over two weeks, so he thought she would have given him time to get his half-furnished house in order before deciding to force her scary cousin on him.

“While I’d like to,” Mike began, quickly explaining, “I have the rest of my furniture scheduled to arrive this weekend.” And the ironic thing was, he wasn’t lying. Harvey was sending a couple of pieces of furniture from his old apartment down, so Mike was going to be waiting on their delivery as well as Harvey’s arrival. The best closer in New York wanted to see for himself what kind of place his partner had chosen over their very expensive and expertly decorated condo in Manhattan.

Charlotte’s lips briefly morphed into a frown before quickly being replaced by a good-natured smile. “I understand,” she chirped. “It’s about time that you actually move in; otherwise, I might just have to go in there and do it myself.”

With those words, another look of horror flashed across Vautrain’s face, though he was quick to smooth it over, not letting Charlotte see how horrified her relocation skills made him. She ran a tight ship when it came time to decamp from them current homestead and move them to the next assignment; but her methods of order reminded Vautrain of drill sergeant he had in the ROTC in high school. And one glimpse of that side of Charlotte was enough to turn Vautrain off sex for a week, which Charlotte found way too funny for his liking. So funny in fact, he had a strong suspicion that now she was only going it for shits and giggles.

“I’m good,” Mike told her, talking around the half-chewed piece of chicken in his mouth.

Charlotte hummed and flatten her lips into a straight line, regarding Mike for a brief moment. “So what kind of furniture is it?”

“A couch, a couple lamps, tables and chairs, a dressers, and a TV stand,” Mike rattled off, remembering verbatim what pieces from the old apartment Harvey had tucked away in a storage unit in his new building until he had decided what he wanted done with them. Secretly, Mike thought Harvey had hung onto them for sentimental reasons… kind of how, in spite of getting all new furniture for the condo, he had kept their bed from the old apartment. It was little sweet if Mike was perfectly honest about it, not that he was going to admit that to Harvey’s face. Sentimentality was for suckers.

As Mike listed off the items, Charlotte nodded approvingly like she had been expected him to say a beer keg, a couple of crates, and possibly a chair found the side of the road. “Good job, Mike. You’re not completely useless when it comes to furnishing a house.”

“Oh thanks,” Mike deadpanned, followed by an eye roll.

“I’m not saying it maliciously,” Charlotte shot back while holding her hands up in front of her chest. “I’m just surprised is all, I mean if I left it to Alex, our house would probably look like a crack den.”

“I’m not that bad,” Alex said defensively, even though what Charlotte said was probably true. Mike’s bark of laughter, caused Vautrain to level an unimpressed glare at him. “Like you were any better in Newport.”

“Gentleman, zip it,” Charlotte ordered. “I saw the state of that apartment and you’re both about even when it comes domestic skills.”

Lowering his eyes, Mike poked at the bit of chicken on his plate before pushing it away, deciding that he was finished. “Up from dessert?” Mike asked as he reached out to snag the dessert and alcohol menu that had been left on the table.

“I could do dessert,” Vautrain agreed. “Charlotte?”

“I’m good. I think I’ll just have another glass of wine.”

Mike pulled the menu away from his face and peered at Charlotte over the top of it. “Were you this much of a lush during Newport?”

Charlotte cackled and shook her head. “No! It’s definitely gotten worse since Newport. I’m taken to blaming it on the stress of my job.”

“I don’t think Vautrain every told me what it is you do,” Mike remarked curiously.

“Oh,” Charlotte blinked. “Well when you started Newport, I didn’t have a job because I thought I wanted to be a full-time Navy wife. It got old after about a year, so I went back college and took a couple of classes in web and graphic design. Most of the work I do is over the internet for startup businesses or small mom and pop outfits that want to join the age of ecommerce.”

“Pays well?”

“Can’t really complain,” Charlotte replied with a shrug, then elaborated with, “a couple hundred dollars for a few hours of work that I can do anywhere in the world.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Mike agreed.

“Vautrain likes that it pays for my shoe habit so he doesn’t have too.”

Vautrain made a face and then retorted, “No, I’m just responsible for her clothes.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, Alex. My clothes are infinitely cheaper than my shoes,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes.

“Not from where my bank account stands,” Vautrain shot back with a grin and a wink.

Bawling her hand into a loose fist, Charlotte punched Alex lightly in the shoulder and then watched as the Marine jarred side to side like her connection had been harder than it actually was. “Jerk.”

“So dessert?” Mike wondered, causing the couple’s attention to focus back on him. He had a strong suspicion that he allowed their banter to continue, it would turn into a full-blown make-out session and there was no well in hell he wanted to witness that.

“Keep your trousers on, Ross,” Vautrain grumbled while snatching the menu out of his hands and giving it to Charlotte. She might have said that she would just order another glass; but Vautrain knew that she would be more than happy to steal a couple of bites from whatever dessert he decided on.

“What he said,” Charlotte quipped, taking the offered menu from her husband’s hands.

Sinking into his chair, Mike laid his head on the table and groaned, “I need new friends,” which made Vautrain and Charlotte to burst out laughing at his perceived misfortune.

~*~*~*~

Stepping onto his front stoop, Mike shielded his eyes from the bright sun and watched as Harvey’s Gotham car pulled into the driveway, parking behind the brand-new maroon Mazda 3 that Mike had purchased a little over a week ago. A few minutes later, a white and blue moving truck stopped at the curb, letting its passengers out.

“Your car is giving my car hives,” Harvey announced while giving the car in question a disgusted look. As soon as Mike had arrived at the condo last week, Harvey had immediately started in on him and his choice of car, a monologue that Mike had quickly tuned out.

“Well hello to you to, Harvey,” Mike countered sarcastically, which caused Harvey to give him a look before opening the rear driver side door and grabbing his duffle bag from the backseat. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one that decided to come with the furniture instead of staying in Manhattan and waiting for me to come up tonight, so we could celebrate Mother’s Day with Grammy tomorrow.”

Harvey rolled his eyes and then looked passed Mike, focusing on the suburban townhouse the sailor now called home. “You live in a dump,” he announced while gesturing with his free hand to the brick and white siding house.

“Well, we can’t all afford a seven figure condo, Harvey,” Mike shot back, following it with a very put upon sigh as he waited for Harvey to join him on the small front stoop.

This time, it was Harvey’s turn to sigh. “You could if you’d just let me help,” he told him, adding, “I wish you would just live with me.”

“There are two reason why that’s not happening any time soon. One, it’s over two hours just one way, and two, unless it has escaped your notice, I’m still an active member of the Navy and they had a bad habit of prosecuting our kind of relationship.”

“It’s stupid,” Harvey grumbled, looking very much like a petulant child.

“You knew this going in,” Mike reasoned gently as he reached out to grab Harvey’s duffle from him and usher him into the house. The movers could wait a couple of minutes while Mike showed Harvey where he could put his stuff.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Harvey continued to grumble, following Mike into the townhouse. Harvey paused just inside the doorway for a minute or two and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting within the nearly empty living room, which Harvey took stock of with a critical eye. The living room was still as empty as it had been in the picture Mike had sent weeks ago, except for one stark difference, the flat screen television that had been set on the ledge of the bay window.

“Besides, like you’re one to talk,” Mike began, “I don’t see you wanting to shout our relationship from your firm’s rooftop.”

Harvey scowled and crossed his arms, giving Mike a pointed look. “That’s different.”

“How?” Mike shot back, waiting a beat for Harvey’s reply; though when none came, Mike’s voice dipped into a mocking tone as he joked, “Oh, Harvey-I have-a-witty-remark-for-everything-Specter appears to be at a loss for words.”

Deciding to ignore Mike’s remark, Harvey turned and quirked an eye in Mike’s direction, telling him clearly without words that he was waiting on Mike.

With a roll of his eyes, Mike jerked his head towards the staircase and began walking up them. “Come on, grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Harvey muttered.

“If you say so,” Mike said, pausing long enough on the stairs so he could flash Harvey with a cheeky grin.

“Keep walking, pookie,” Harvey ordered. “I can feel the hives starting.”

“Ha, ha.”

Once at the top of the stairs, Mike walked straight, entering the back bedroom. While it was a little smaller than the front bedroom, Mike had chosen it optimistically for its his and her closets. So he very surprised when Harvey had called on Thursday to tell him that he planned on driving up on Saturday with the moving van.

Mike’s bedroom was a little more furnished than the rest of the house; but only due to the large king size bed Mike had purchased last weekend. He had finally gotten tired of sleeping in what amounted to an air mattress on the floor.

After setting Harvey’s duffel on the bed, Mike took a seat next to it as Harvey walked a circle around the room. “Let’s have it,” Mike murmured gravely, knowing that Harvey just had to have a comment or two regarding his bedroom.

“I have no—“ Harvey started before being cut off by the sound of a female voice calling up the stairs for Mike.

“Ross, you home?”

With a sigh, Mike pushed himself off the bed and then grabbed Harvey’s arm, pulling him in close and whispering, “I love you.”

“I know,” Harvey returned, matching Mike’s tone, before leaning in and giving Mike a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.

Mike sighed again as he pulled away, putting as much distance between him and Harvey as humanly possible. “Upstairs, Charlotte. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Move your ass, Ross,” Vautrain’s booming voice chimed in. “Some of us actually work for a living.”

“What does that even mean?” Mike called back with a laugh.

“It means that your moving guys are getting pissed off that you’re taking your sweet time getting your ass downstairs,” Charlotte replied.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike grumbled as he left his bedroom and Harvey behind. His partner would join him downstairs when he was good and ready to meet Mike’s friends, which would be a first for them. Besides Grammy, Harvey hadn’t meet anyone else Mike considered close; yet it wasn’t like Harvey had a whole lot of friends himself.

When Mike finally made it downstairs, he found that instead of waiting for him, Charlotte was already directing the movers with where to put his new furniture.

“You try telling my wife, no,” Vautrain told him, while doing his best to stay out of Charlotte and the movers’ way.

“Luckily for her, I value my life,” Mike replied, adding, “and it’s not like I can’t move the furniture later.”

Even though it seemed like Charlotte hadn’t been paying either man any attention, she stopped and twisted her head slowly to stare Mike. “You will do no such thing, Michael Ross,” she commanded, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

“Sounds like she could give Donna a ran for her money,” Harvey drawled as he came down the stairs, sounding a little like the Manhattan shark Mike had meet almost two years ago. “Harvey Specter,” he announced, holding his hand out to Charlotte.

Charlotte looked him up and down, eyeing his pressed jeans and storm grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at the elbow. “And who are you, Mr. Specter?” She asked, her curiosity obviously perked by the arrival of a well-dressed man, who moved with ease through Mike’s home.

“Charlotte, Alex,” Mike interrupted, deciding to use Vautrain’s first name for this round of introductions, “Harvey Specter. Harvey, this is Alex Vautrain and his wife Charlotte. I roomed with Alex while in Newport,” he explained.

“Nice to meet you,” Vautrain said and then reached out to shake Harvey’s offered hand. “Also, I recommend you answer Charlotte’s questions. She’s like a dog with a bone and won’t stop until you do.”

“Thank you, Alex,” Charlotte beamed.

“I thought—“ Harvey started before Mike interjected.

“We met at the Harvard Club before I left for Naples.”

Charlotte pursed his lips and whistled. “Fancy,” she quipped. “I sometimes forget that the boy from Brooklyn went to Harvard,” she teased, pitching her voice low and sultry like a Katherine Hepburn in _The Philadelphia Story._

“Oh, I like her,” Harvey laughed, causing Mike to roll his eyes fondly. “She’s got a wicked sense of humor like Donna.”

“Who’s Donna?”

“Harvey’s executive assistant, who runs his life,” Mike answered.

“Sounds like my kind of woman,” Charlotte hummed before turning her attention to the movers and addressing them. “No. Don’t put the couch there. Ignore the fact that _someone_ thought it was a good idea to put his television in the bay window.”

Mike shrugged off Charlotte’s thinly veiled insult and reasoned, “It gave me the best sightline, so I could watch TV from the kitchen.”

“I’d agree with you, but I fear my wife too much,” Vautrain told him, but only after Charlotte’s attention was once more fully on the movers and the placement of Mike’s new-to-him furniture.

“Wuss,” Mike muttered his breath, quickly following it with a broad grin in Harvey’s direction, who simply shook his head and walked into the kitchen, leaving Mike and Vautrain to watch Charlotte as she directed the furniture into its _proper_ place.

Harvey hadn’t been in the kitchen long before Mike joined him, stopping close enough to be considered friendly without seeming _too friendly_. “I didn’t know they were coming,” Mike stated, making sure to keep his voice down. “But I should have known because Charlotte been trying to set me up with her cousin, who will be in Manhattan for a work thing this weekend.”

“And you said you weren’t going to New York because your furniture was arriving, so of course they just had to come help you,” Harvey finished, pitching his voice low to match Mike’s.

“They mean well-“

“Right until they push you off a well-meaning cliff,” Harvey interjected.

Though he had never gotten any homophobic vibes from Alex during their time as roommates in Newport, most people were good a hiding their true feelings on the subject, right up until they are confronted with the idea their friend just might be attracted to men as well as women. “Harvey,” Mike warned, “can we not do this while they’re standing less than 20 feet away.”

“And when would you like to do this then?”

Mike sighed with a look of fond exasperation on his face and retorted, “Preferably two hundred miles south of here and while managing to be within ten feet from our bed.”

“That is a very specific request, counselor,” Harvey quipped, “so here’s my counter offer, how about we table the argument for a later time and break in your bed.”

Throwing his head back, Mike laughed long and loud at Harvey’s suggestion; though Harvey knew that by Mike’s reaction, he was secretly agreeing to it. Otherwise, Mike would have given him a look and a definitive no.

The sound of Mike’s jovial laughter caused Vautrain to turn and glance at the two men, watching as Harvey started to bring his hand like he was going to touch Mike’s face before dropping it abruptly to grip the sailor’s shoulder instead. Normally Vautrain wouldn’t have thought anything of it; but Mike’s general demeanor when discussing his trips to New York tended to be, at times, cagey.

“Hey,” Vautrain called out, forcing both men’s attention to him, “what’s so funny?”

Vautrain watched as Mike and Harvey shared a quick, yet profound look before Mike opened his mouth and replied, “Harvey thinks he would have cut it as a Marine.”

“I never said that,” Harvey retorted, “my exact words were: if given half the chance, I think I could go a couple of rounds in the ring with a Marine.”

“So you box?” Vautrain asked conversationally while managing to keep his skepticism at bay. He didn’t believe for a second that Mike and Harvey had been talking about Marines or boxing because the brief glance they had shared reminded him of his own unspoken conversations with Charlotte over the years. They were looks and glances born from two people, who knew the other as well as they knew themselves.

“I’ve been known to step into the ring a time or two,” Harvey told him with a shrug, making the fact that he boxed seem like it was no big deal.

“You just might get your chance,” Vautrain said then added, “while stationed at Camp Pendleton, I was on their varsity boxing team.”

“Oh really,” Harvey drawled before shooting Mike a look that could only be described as ‘what-the-fuck, Mike’. Though, all his look managed to do was cause Mike to give him a very smug grin in return.

“Oh yeah, Vautrain was one of the best boxers in his weight class,” Mike chimed in helpfully and in a tone that sounded a little false, even to Vautrain’s ears.

It was as though Mike was trying to make it appear that he had completely forgotten until this moment that Alex had been a boxer while at Camp Pendleton, which was bullshit. So Mike had to fucking with this man… his lover, partner, whatever Mike considered him. And from where he stood, Vautrain knew that Harvey Specter was important to Mike because no matter how much they were trying to hide it, they wore their feelings for each other as plain as day on their faces.

“Well, aren’t you just a bundle of information,” Harvey quipped, following it with an eye roll when Mike grinned and knocked their shoulders together.

“What can I say?” Mike asked with a grin and a shrug.

Instead of answering, Harvey looked passed Vautrain’s shoulder and motioned towards Charlotte while asking, “Is she always like this?”

With a twist of his head, Vautrain turned and looked at Charlotte, who was currently standing with hand on hip in the middle of Mike’s living room, gesturing to the moving men on where to put the sofa. “In a word, yes. In two words, she’s scary.”

Vautrain’s response made Mike laugh gleefully. “He speaks the truth,” he panted out between bouts of laughter. “The first time I met Charlotte in Newport, she took one look at our apartment and broke out the cleaning supplies and immediately put us to work.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Vautrain began, “I love my wife; but I tend to steer clear of her when she’s senses a project.”

“Ah,” Harvey breathed and then looked down at his watch. “Since there’s nothing for me to do, I’m going to go check my emails and make a couple of calls.”

“On a Saturday?” Vautrain asked unbelievably.

Reaching out, Harvey patted Vautrain on the back and said, “Corporate law never sleeps. Especially when you have a multi-million dollar merger in the works and a gaggle of associates, interns, and paralegals willing to jump as high as you tell them.”

“Must be nice,” Vautrain whistled.

“It has its perks,” Harvey shrugged before crossing the living room to the stairs, making sure to stay out of Charlotte and the movers’ way.

Once upstairs, Harvey found himself pausing just inside Mike’s doorway, silently wondering if he should continue business as usual or grab his things and pretend to set up camp in the spare room, at least until the Vautrains went home. A minute or two passed before Harvey finally decided to not even bother with the pretense and entered the room, spreading his long limbs out as he collapsed on the down duvet.

“They should be gone in a couple of hours,” Mike said from the open doorway, “and then we can start for Manhattan.”

Patting the empty space beside him, Harvey beckoned Mike over and then waited until the sailor was close enough to pull him down onto the bed beside him. “Do you think they suspect?” Mike murmured as he took Harvey’s hand in his own, squeezing gently.

“Don’t think about,” Harvey advised, “you’ll only drive yourself crazy.”

“This is my career, we’re talking about,” Mike stressed.

Harvey hummed thoughtfully and said, “I know, Mike; but you can’t think in the _ifs_ or the _whens_ … besides, if you lose your job, you can always come work for me.”

Mike chuckled at Harvey’s suggestion. “I can see that going over well.”

“What are you talking about? Jessica would love it. She’d have another person to try and keep me in line.”

“I’m sure,” Mike deadpanned.

“Just close your eyes and try not to think about it,” Harvey grumbled as he did exactly what he told Mike to do. Eventually, one of the Vautrains would come in search of them; but until then, Harvey was content to just enjoy this time with Mike as long as it lasted.

~*~*~*~

“Plans?” Donna asked as she looked Rachel Zane up and down in the restroom mirror. The young paralegal had changed from the black below the knee pencil skirt and white dress shirt to a sleek blue dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways.

“You could say that,” Rachel replied while touching up her makeup in the mirror. “Some of us from the paralegal department are going out for Fleet Week.”

Donna’s quirked an eyebrow at her and asked coyly, “Looking for a sailor?”

“Don’t know about that,” Rachel laughed while straightening her bangs. “I can’t imagine myself as the type to keep the home fires burning and all that.”

“For the right guy, you’d be surprised,” Donna told her cryptically.

Rachel shot Donna a look in the mirror and then turned, giving her coworker her full attention. “Speaking from experience?”

“Yes,” Donna replied, “years of dating experience.”

“You aren’t that much older than me,” Rachel laughed. “But honestly, would you be willing to wait for someone?”

“If he was worth it, I think I would,” Donna admitted with a tiny smile.

When she had agreed to leave the district attorney’s office with Harvey, Donna had done it with the smallest hope that eventually she and Harvey could be together as a couple. Yet in the years since, Donna realized that she preferred Harvey’s friendship to a fabled relationship, and besides, Mike presence had changed Harvey in ways that her friendship had never been able to do. So just maybe, Mike was the best person to love and support Harvey in all the ways that he needed.

“Wanna join us?” Rachel asked after a beat. This time it was her turn to quirk her eyebrow, though she did so in a silent challenge, almost daring the red head to refuse her offer.

“Sure, I could do with a night out.”

With a smile, Rachel asked, “So where should we go?”

“With a city full of sailors, I’m sure find a bar full of them won’t be a problem,” Donna remarked as she opened the restroom door and lead the way out.

“True,” Rachel laughed.

“I’m Donna, I know and see all,” she joked, causing Rachel to laugh again. “I’m going to get my purse and I’ll meet you downstairs.” Nodding her head, Rachel left Donna outside the women’s restroom, walking in the direction of the paralegal bullpen.

Once back at her desk, Donna grabbed her purse and then stuck her head inside Harvey’s office, telling him, “I’m gone, Harvey. Try and not work too late. Otherwise, I might have to send Mike to come and collect you.”

Harvey snorted. “Mike’s not mine this weekend. He came down with some coworkers from New London for Fleet Week, so…”

“Oh,” Donna frowned. “Are they staying at hotel for the weekend?”

“Somewhere in mid-town,” Harvey replied shortly and a little dismissively. He had a mountain of files he needed to get through before Monday and he didn’t really want to waste time talking about the fact that Mike was in town and it was unlikely he’d actually see him.

“Do you need anything before I leave?” Shaking his head, Harvey continued to focus on the documents spread out before him, patiently waiting for Donna to leave him in peace. “Okay,” Donna said, “night, Harvey.”

Turning on her heel, Donna left Harvey’s door and strode the hallway towards the elevators, all the while pulling out her cellphone.

**Donna (347) 203-6109**

Where are you at?

**Mike (718) 447-9875**

Not sure

**Mike (718) 447-9875**

the Social on 8th

**Donna (347) 203-6109**

Why so far, Ross?

**Mike (718) 447-9875**

I didn’t choose it. Apparently Giron got a little search happy and decided on this place

**Donna (347) 203-6109**

I’ll text you when I get there, Mike.

**Donna (347) 203-6109**

Oh and you’ve left a very unhappy Harvey.

**Mike (718) 447-9875**

I know he didn’t sound too happy when I told him I probably wouldnt see him this weekend

**Donna (347) 203-6109**

Are you going to make it up to him?

**Mike (718) 447-9875**

I’m a gentleman Ms. Paulsen and I don’t kiss and tell ;-)

~*~*~*~

“Whose round is it?” Lt Giron asked as he looked mournfully down at the empty cluster of shot and pint glasses littering the table and then back up at his coworkers.

“Not sure. Ross?” Vautrain stated, swinging his head around to look over at Mike, who was busy typing away on his cellphone and obviously not paying their conversation any attention. “Hey. Ross,” he shouted over the dim of the bar while banging his hand on the table, in an attempt to get Mike to pull his eyes away from his phone.

A minute or two passed before Mike finally set his phone down and meet Vautrain’s eye. “What?”

“Giron wants to know whose round it is,” Vautrain recounted and then looked pointedly over at Lt Connor, who had his head down and seemed to be drawing little pictures and symbols in the droplets of water on the table.

“It’s mine,” Mike lied with a quirk of an eyebrow in Vautrain’s direction, signaling to his friend to not call him out on his lie. Both men knew that it was technically Connor’s round; but given that it was the Lt’s birthday tomorrow, Vautrain, Giron, and Mike had decided to treat Connor to free drinks for as long as he could stand up.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Connor slurred, barely managing to focus on Mike’s face as it finally swam into view. “When is it my turn to pay?” He added and then reached into his pocket, fumbling for his wallet.

With a shake of his head, Mike clapped Connor on the back and said, “Put your money away and enjoy your birthday present… all the alcohol you can handle.”

Connor grinned. “I love you, guys,” he murmured, causing Giron to snort into his beer.

“No, homo,” Giron called out and then raised his pint glass into an empty, drunken toast; his words making Vautrain roll his eyes and glance towards Mike, who appeared caught off guard by Giron’s statement. While Vautrain in no way agreed with Giron’s sentiment, Mike’s reaction did lend some credence to his suspicions that there might be more to Mike and Harvey Specter’s relationship than just mere friendship.

“Shut up, Giron,” Connor ordered. “You’re drunk.”

“So are you,” Giron retorted before he burst out laughing which caused Connor to join in.

“Go get the drinks, Ross,” Vautrain said with a shake of his head. “I’ll deal with these idiots while you’re gone.”

Leaving Vautrain to deal with Connor and Giron, Mike pushed his way through the crowded second floor and over to the bar, where an elegantly dressed red head was drumming her fingertips on the bar in a not so patient way.

“Wanna buy me a drink, sailor?” Donna coyly asked, flicking her hair over her shoulder and batting her eyelashes at Mike.

“Donna,” Mike greeted with a muted chuckle and a shake of his head. “Four Brooklyn Lagers, 2 Fireballs, and whatever this lady and her friends are drinking,” he ordered, once the bartender had made an appearance.

“Thank you, strange man I don’t know,” Donna grinned and then leaned in to tell the bartender her order, “I need six Lemon Drops, 3 Blue Moons, and a bottle of your most expensive red wine with 3 glasses.”

“Let’s remember I’m lonely lieutenant,” Mike remarked after the bartender had gladly taken his credit card from him and began to make their orders.

Turning towards Mike, Donna gave the sailor a pointed look and countered, “I know you’re good for it.”

“Right,” Mike drawled, seeming to channel a little of Harvey as he spoke.

Donna laughed gleefully and reached out, blushing her hands down the lapels of Mike’s service khaki as she murmured, “I was hoping to see you in your dress whites.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Donna,” Mike apologized, “but not even Harvey has seen me in my dress whites.”

“What about Grammy?”

“Of course Grammy has,” Mike stated, giving her ‘how-can-you-even-ask-that’ look.

Though before Donna had the chance to respond, the bartender placed her drinks on the bar, lining them up on a tray in front of the pair. “Your drinks, ma’am,” he told her before turning to Mike and adding, “and yours are coming right up.”

Mike waved him off. “Take your time. I’m in no rush.”

“Are you going to try and see him this weekend?” Donna asked as she picked up the tray full of drinks.

“I’m going to try, but I make no promises,” Mike admitted with a shrug.

Nodding her head, Donna leveled him with a pointed look and confessed, “He’s had a shitty week and would probably love to see you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mike called back, watching and waiting for her to disappear into the lively crowd before turning back to the bartender, who had just finished his order. “Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” the bartender replied gruffly. “And I wanna say thanks for your service. My dad was a paratrooper during Desert Storm.”

“Then thank your dad for me,” Mike replied, smiling ruefully as he admitted, “and besides, I’m just a lawyer.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, the bartender reached and patted Mike on the back. “Doesn’t matter. You’re doing more than most are willing to protect our country,” he declared before turning away from Mike and focusing on his next customers.

“Who was the pretty redhead?” Vautrain yelled into Mike’s ear, making the sailor jump almost a foot in the air.

“What the hell, man!” Mike exclaimed as he knocked into Vautrain, causing the Marine to stumble back a few feet as he let out a booming bout of laughter.

“Seriously, man. Who’s the redhead?”

“Just a woman, who wanted a tour of my _ship_ ,” Mike told him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Vautrain reached around Mike and grabbed two of the beers off the bar, leading the way back through the crowd to their table where he had left Connor with his head on the table and Giron leaning back in his chair.

“Oh come on,” Mike grumbled, “it was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Vautrain yelled back, not bothering to stop or even turn and look at Mike as he quickly shut his friend down.

Once at their table, Vautrain set both beers down and slid into his chair, kicking Connor lightly in the shin to rouse the slumbering sailor. “You still with us, buddy?” He asked, waiting for Connor’s sleepy groan of affirmation before continuing with, “good. There’s another place on Giron’s Fleet Week Pub Crawl and I’m not one to disappoint a friend when he sets his sights on getting dead drunk.”

“How is it that you and Ross aren’t drunk yet?” Giron accused, even going as far as to point a shaky finger in their general direction.

“Smart enough to pace ourselves,” Mike told him before taking a long pull from his pint glass. “Now drink up, boys. The night is still young.”

“Fuck yeah!” Giron exclaimed, right be downing both his Fireball and Connor’s in one huge gulp.

~*~*~*~

“Smart enough to pace ourselves, my ass,” Vautrain grumbled with his arms wrapped around Mike’s shoulders as he helped the sailor down the hallway of a Manhattan high-rise.

After dropping Giron and Connor off at their hotel, Vautrain had directed their cabby to take them to the half-slurred address that Mike had rattled off as soon as they had gotten into the vehicle. Based on the cut of Harvey Specter’s clothes and the car he had driven to Connecticut, there wasn’t any doubt in Alex’s mind that this Manhattan address belonged to the Harvard educated lawyer.

“Ross, which apartment?” Vautrain asked as he jostled Mike, trying to rouse the slighter man long enough to answer his question.

Instead of replying, Mike broke free of Vautrain’s loose hold and stumbled down the hallway, bracing one hand against the wall to keep himself vertical as he made his way towards Harvey’s door. Vautrain followed Mike a couple of feet until the sailor stopped in front of nondescript looking door and raised his fist, banging twice and then laying his forehead against the wood, seeming to wait patiently for its owner to open the door.

Fortunately for Mike, he didn’t have to wait very long for the door to open; however, due to his impaired facilities, the sailor had been unprepared for the door to open so quickly, so as soon as it did, he tipped headfirst into Harvey’s chest, forcing the lawyer to catch his sloppy partner before he had the chance to end up in a drunken heap at Harvey’s feet.

“Honey, I’m home,” Mike slurred, grinning stupidly into Harvey’s scowling face. Though, Mike’s grin quickly became a frown as soon as he realized Harvey wasn’t so happy to see him. So reaching out, Mike brought his hands up to Harvey’s face and touched his mouth, attempting to reshape his scowl into some semblance of a smile. “Why so serious?”

“Stop that,” Harvey growled, grabbing Mike’s wandering hand with his and pulling it away from his face. After he was certain he had Mike under some kind of control, he looked towards Vautrain, who had been silently watching the scene unfold. “Coffee?”

Vautrain smiled and then shook his head no. “Actually, it’s kind of late and I left Giron and Connor back at the hotel… alone.”

“I’m not going to take no for an answer,” Harvey began, “and I think you and I need to have a talk.”

“Okay,” Vautrain agreed before following Harvey into his apartment.

Closing the door behind them, Vautrain watched as Harvey half drug-half carried Mike down a long hallway with full windows to the left and a wall of modern art on the right. Just standing in Harvey Specter’s apartment made Vautrain question whether or not it was time to separate from the Marines and seek out a new career in corporate law.

“Are you coming?” Harvey called back, right before disappearing around the corner with Mike, who by this point looked more asleep than awake.

Understanding the question was rhetorical, Vautrain jogged down the tiled hallway, hoping to catch up with Harvey so he could help him with his drunken burden. However, by the time he turned the corner into the open concept kitchen/living room area, Harvey was nowhere to seen. So with a shrug of his shoulders, Vautrain took a seat at the tempered glass and chrome island to wait for the lawyer to reappear.

“Thanks for bringing him home,” Harvey said as he came out a room just to the right of the kitchen. If the door hadn't been partially left opened, Alex wasn't sure if he would have realized it was even there.

"It's not like he gave me much choice, the minute I poured him and the other two into the taxi, he quickly rattled off this address to the driver. So I figured if a person is most honest when drunk, why not take my boy to where he obviously wanted to be. Plus, it doesn't hurt that's one less hangover I have to deal with in the morning," Alex explained.

"Thanks, I guess," Harvey drawled as he opened the cabinet closest to him and pulled down a French press, followed by a bag of coffee that probably cost more per an ounce than Alex made in a month.

As Harvey set about making their coffee, Vautrain to the opportunity to have a look around the tastefully, yet expensively decorated apartment. The designer had chosen to go with a very modern theme of glass and chrome, most likely due to large windowed walls and ceramic tiled floors. From where Alex sat, very little of the open concept kitchen/living room screamed home; but maybe that's how Harvey Specter wanted it to be... his home an exact mirror of his heart, with walls of glass and steel hiding the bits of his heart that really matter from the rest of the world. If true, it would be poetic.

"I just need to know one thing," Harvey began after a time, finally looking Alex straight in the eye, "are you going to ruin his career?"

If it had been anyone else asking the question, Vautrain might have found himself feeling insulted that someone would think he'd rat out a fellow serviceman. But just looking into Harvey's face, Alex could see the fear in his eyes that he was trying so hard to hide. Yet Vautrain couldn't be certain if he was fearful for Mike and his career, or fearful of what might happen to them if Mike lost his career.

"No," Alex replied definitively.

Seeming to take Alex at his word, Harvey nodded his head in apparent relief and then set a white ceramic mug down in front of the Marine. "Thanks," he breathed.

"To be honest, I could care less about where my boy puts his dick as long as he's happy while doing it," Vautrain confessed. "Now my wife on the other hand, she'll be hell of disappointed not to be getting Mike as a cousin-in-law."

"You can't tell her," Harvey practically growled, his grasp tightening on the ceramic mug in his hand.

"Relax," Alex told him, waving off his thinly veiled anger. "Charlotte would be the last person I told. She can't keep a secret to save her life."

Harvey gave another nod and then took a sip of his coffee, eyes focusing on a point just pass Vautrain's shoulder, as he let silence surround his condo once more. Before Mike came banging on his door, Harvey had managed to crawl into bed after having spent most of his evening pouring over the final sell contracts related to the Gisenbegh divorce.

"Let me ask you a question, Harvey," Alex started, pulling Harvey from his thoughts. "How did you and Mike meet? It wasn't at the Harvard Club, was it?"

"Not even close," Harvey chuckled. "Ironically, we met during fleet week two years ago. It was supposed to be a one night stand, but somehow Mike tracked me down and we started emailing back and forth."

"And the rest is history?"

With a shrug of his shoulders and tiny smile, Harvey said, "yeah, something like that."

"Thank you."

"For what?" Harvey asked, confusion evident on his face.

Taking a sip of coffee for a little faux liquid courage, Alex explained, "When we were in Newport, I used to worry about him finding someone. I mean here was this guy with so much heart and he couldn't seem to find anyone to love him. And as much as he tried to hide it, I saw how much he wanted what I have with Charlotte and now that I look back on it, I know I'm the reason that Charlotte is always trying to set him up because I stupidly told her how lonely Mike looked. Christ, I'm an idiot."

"You said it," Harvey chuckled. "Now you need to figure out a way to call her off."

"Yeah," Alex agreed with a sigh. As much as he loved Charlotte, Vautrain had no problem with likening his wife to a dog with a metaphorical bone... at least in his mind. He wasn't dumb enough to ever say it to her face. "But seriously, Harvey, thank you for taking care of Mike."

"It's not all one-sided, my executive assistant thinks he's done wonders for my charming personality."

Alex hummed, thinking silently for moment before asking, "Leggy redhead, wearing a dark green dress with a scoop off the shoulder neck line?"

"How?" Harvey asked, a little awe by Vautrain's description of Donna. Though to be perfectly honest, Harvey wasn't sure if it because of accurately he was able to describe what Donna had been wearing or the way he described what she had been wearing.

"I saw Mike talking to this redhead at the bar and they seemed a bit more familiar than two strangers making polite conversation," Vautrain explained. "Also, I think he bought her and the group she was with their first round."

"That's Donna," Harvey affirmed as he shook his head in disbelief.  "Also explains why she was curious about whether I'd see Mike this weekend or not."

"Sounds like she worries about you the same way I worry about Mike."

"Yeah," Harvey sighed before rubbing his hand across his tired eyes.

Sensing that he had over stayed his welcome, Vautrain rose to his feet and the grabbed his mug, intending to place it in the sink before saying his goodbyes. However, Harvey's voice stopped him.

"Just leave it on the counter and I'll get it tomorrow. It's already kind of late, so you're welcome to crash in the guest bedroom or I can call you a cab," Harvey told him.

And as much as Alex wanted to take Harvey's offer of the guest room, he knew that he could pass Mike's absence off as a last minute pull, since Giron and Connor by that point were too drunk to remember their own names. But if he stayed out, it would cause one too many questions that he'd rather not have to answer.

"As much as I'd liked to stay, I really need to get back to hotel just to much sure Giron and Connor don't drown in their own puke."

"Now there's a pleasant thought," Harvey quipped, causing Alex to flash him a smug grin.

"Just remember, you'll have your own ray of sunshine in the morning" Vautrain teased.

"One that I will have no problem kicking out of bed," Harvey returned, giving Alex a grin of his own. "Let me get my phone so I can call you a cab."

With a nod, Alex watched as Harvey ducked into the open door, only to return a few minutes later with his phone already pressed firmly to his ear. "Yeah, the pickup is for Captain Alex Vautrain... He'll be the Marine waiting with the doorman... 10 minutes. Okay, thanks."

Jerking his head towards the door, Alex said, "I'm going to go ahead and head down. He'll probably be there before I am."

"Let me walk you to the door," Harvey replied, grateful that Alex had the foresight to offer to wait downstairs, instead of forcing Harvey to stay up longer than he really wanted to. "Next time, we're in the same city, we'll have dinner together... all four of us."

"Sounds good," Vautrain agreed as Harvey showed him to the door. "Get some sleep, man. You look like you need it."

"Thanks," Harvey scoffed, opening the door for Alex. "Night."

"Night," Alex repeated back before turning on his heel and making his way back towards the elevator banks.

Once Alex was gone and he had locked up again for the night, Harvey slowly shuffled his way back to bed, deciding as he passed the kitchen to leave the coffee things until morning. Pulling off the t-shirt he had thrown on to answer the door, Harvey then slide into his waiting bed, curling his limbs around his adorably snoring idiot of a partner, and just as sleep finally began to settle upon him again,  Harvey found himself squeezing Mike gently as he murmured, "pain in my ass," into Mike's sleep-tussled hair.


End file.
